Altered States
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: A shocking death; a terrible secret; an evil nemesis. Mac wages a fight for his mental & emotional sanity after an undercover assignment alters his future & puts him as the target of a new foe. Can wife Stella help him overcome his fears? No swearing.
1. The Truth won't set you Free

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 1 - The Truth won't set you Free**

**Summary: **A shocking death; a terrible secret; an evil nemesis. Mac wages a fight for his mental & emotional sanity after an undercover assignment alters his future & puts him as the target of a new foe. Can wife Stella help him overcome his new fears & get justice

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Mac Taylor but I wish I did (course then I'd have no time for writing!). You know the rest write? (grin)

**A/N**: So I am once again trying something new for me. This story is going to be a bit darker and angstier than other stories, but it will have lots of fluffy moments and trademark AiP stuff also to come. Just the topic is something I haven't done before for NY.

_~Special thanks to WildWeasel, SBT and SMackedFan for the read-thrus and discussions and to Stardust 585. Hope you like what I have come up with.~_

**Very strong T for some violence and subject matter**

* * *

_"Drew's dead...he hung himself."_

Mac leans back in his chair and allows his lips to offer a heavy curse; his mind thinking back to when he was sitting in the courtroom listening to the sentence of a man he knew as a boy; a man being sentenced to a prison term for trying to take his life. _'Andrew Bedford you are hereby sentenced to...'_

Andy or Drew as he was most recently known, was charged with stalking a police officer; kidnapping a police officer and the attempted murder of two police officers; those were the major charges, the minor ones didn't seem to factor much; they just added to the mental decline of a man that grew up with the same hope and promise that he did; a man who had harbored resentment and hatred for the better part of his life and allowed it to control his actions and emotions to the detriment of everyone around him; especially himself.

_'This is all your fault Mac!' _Was the last thing that Drew had told him in the courtroom before he was dragged away; the Eric M Taylor center, his soon to be final resting place on the planet. Although spewing curses from his lips; Drew's eyes begged Mac's for reconciliation just before the courtroom doors slammed shut and he was gone.

"Drew..." Mac's brain forces the name to escape his lips. Jimmy didn't correct him; didn't reprimand him for calling his brother by the name that was synonymous with a man who was once labeled a stalked; Andy Bedford forever reserved for a young boy of an innocent nature; that was now gone; gone for good. He was only in prison for six months; he didn't even last that.

_"Mac?"_Jimmy's voice quickly snaps him back to reality.

"Sorry I...tell me exactly what happened Jimmy," Mac asks with a hint of desperation in his voice. As he listens to Jimmy's explanation, Mac's mind flashes images of his final hours with Drew; hours that he never could have foreseen this future.

_"At first he was pretty down and stuff. Angry and cursing life and everything; you and me included. But at least he was talking and such. Then he said he had done something and...and then he withdrew; refused to see me and that was it. I went to see him and was told I wasn't wanted and not to come back. I just...damn I should have went to see him sooner."_

"I um...I had thought about going to see him also Jimmy. I just wasn't sure my going there would do any good. Maybe if I did...maybe Drew would be alive to take that opportunity," Mac's voice allows a heavy exhale, his chest painful and his mind racing with a million different thoughts and ideas.

_"I'm his brother Mac, if anyone should have been visiting him in that hellhole it should have been me. At first his emails were mostly the same. His hatred toward you, me and himself; his remorse at Will's death that was never dealt with and what a mistake he made in coming after you."_

"Nothing to indicate he wanted to kill himself?"

_"Nothing.__ He said he made a friend inside; some guy named Maurice, one of the guards; liked him right from day one. Drew said he was nice; a loner like him but it was okay because he protected him anyone who would cause him trouble. Apparently his new cellmate was quite the um..."_

"What?" Mac gently prods.

_"He was rough. Always looking for someone to beat up on. I mean we both know Drew...well he's not you Mac...hell he's not even me. I was glad he had someone looking out for him but...well this new guy, I guess something happened and..."_

"Think Drew overheard or saw something that this new guy did and he threatened Drew?" Mac ponders.

_"That would be my guess. You think it's the mob? Think they would do this? To Drew? Mac, he's nobody."_

"Plausible. If Drew confided in the wrong person; even his cellmate then it wouldn't take long for the mob insider to exploit whatever Drew told them and then use it to their advantage. If Drew threatened to tell on them then the guy probably got desperate and then did what he had to do," Mac finishes and then waits. When a small pause of silence is heard Mac is quick to call Jimmy on it. "What else is bothering you? We will find the name of his cellmate and the reason..."

_"There is something else Mac...but..."_

"But what?"

_"Please just give me your word you won't tell Stella."_

"I can't do that Jimmy. She's my wife now and...and she was just as involved with Drew as...hell Jimmy she was the reason Drew was able to track me so fast in the first place. She has the right to know he's dead."

_"I have other details that...I just need your word you won't tell anyone else this. You can tell her he hung himself, which he did but..._"

"Jimmy his mob dealings are no big de..."

_"Mac, Drew was assaulted and raped."_

"What?" Mac asks in shock; his world coming to a sudden halt. _Assaulted and..._he couldn't even bring himself to contemplate in silent thought the last variable. He instantly shook his head; willing the now audible yelling for help to subside, but unable to just push it aside. Not possible; he kept trying to assure his mind; Drew never suffered that kind of humiliation.

"How um...how do you know? Who did it...I mean...damn it Jimmy what do you mean he was, assaulted?" Mac growls.

_"I don't have much information. When I went to pick up Drew's things; I was stopped by another prisoner. Before you ask I didn't get his name, the only thing I remember is he was bald and had a Celtic cross tattooed on the back of his neck. He asked who I was; and when I said I was Drew's brother he said that he was subdued and raped by a guard named Maurice." _

"But..."

_"That's right Mac. The same guard he befriended when he stepped foot into that hellhole. I still think he's joking but...but why make up such a story? Think its all part of the mob coverup? Trying to finger someone else?" _Jimmy asks with a heavy sigh; trying to disguise it over another remorseful whimper.

"It um...it could be. If it was something serious then his cellmate would want to point the suspicion to someone else; that is in case someone started to snoop around. What else did Drew say about this Maurice?"

_"He said he would always talk to him. He never gave him special treatment or anything but he always made sure that Drew wasn't assigned stuff that was too arduous; got library duty. He said he seemed like an alright guy. Mac what can we do? Anything? I don't believe he hung himself. I mean I know he withdrew and isolated himself and this would give any man reason to pull back and want to commit suicide but...but I just don't believe it."_

"Jimmy he um...well if what this guy told you is true then...then he experienced what no man ever should and...I mean it would be plausible for a man to...well to think about suicide...I mean even the strongest man would if he been humbled by such a...a humiliating experience. Maybe he just couldn't live with the shame?"

_"Mac I...I don't believe it. Please you have to help me prove otherwise. Please?"_

The desperation in Jimmy's voice instantly tugged at Mac's heart and conscience. It's true that he could have reasoned that Drew used his best friend while he stalked him; finally kidnapping him and then setting up an elaborate trap that was intended to kill him and Stella at the same time; that Drew got what he deserved. But no matter the crime; no man deserved to be attacked; to be treated like a piece of worthless meat; his dignity and pride taken in a single act of cowardice and then forcing that man to take his life because he couldn't live with the shame. He couldnt imagine what Drew must have felt; his own mind telling himself he was glad he would never have to face something so degrading and life altering. But now it wasn't time to focus on how he'd deal with things; it was time to focus on a life that was cut short.

_"You think Drew was a coward?" _Jimmy's voice once again snaps Mac back to reality.

"I...I think he was probably scared and didn't know what the hell to...no he wasn't a coward he...he was just forced to experience a horror no man...no human should and...damn it Jimmy I should have gone to see him. If he would have told me I could have had him moved to another cell; even another holding facility."

_"We both failed Mac, I didn't tell you sooner because I wasn't sure Drew wanted me to. Then when he pulled back I um...well if couldn't tell you that my own brother had me cut off. I guess guilt and shame run in the family."_

"Well if he didn't tell you then he wouldn't have told me," Mac states with a sour note. "I'm sorry."

_"I am too."_

Mac leans back in his chair, his eyes wandering down to his left hand that is now curled into a tight fist; his eyes resting on the gleaming band of gold; a symbol that in an instant somewhat soothes his mind and heart. He hears a soft noise at the door and looks up to see Stella standing in the entrance way; his wife; the woman he pledged the rest of his life and future to; the only one he knows will keep him sane until he gets to the bottom of this new nightmare.

"Jimmy, Stella is here and..." his voice softly breaks, prompting Stella to arch a brow in wonder; her eyes looking at him in wonder.

_"Please Mac. I'm begging you don't tell her all the details. Let him just rest in peace in dignity. At least somewhat?"_

"I give you my word I'll get to the bottom of this and find out what really happened."

_"Thanks Mac. Call me when you can," _Jimmy finally hangs up just as Stella slowly eases herself into a chair in front of his desk.

Mac studies the peaceful expression on the beautiful face of his wife and feels his anxiety starting to lessen somewhat; her presence always having that effect on him. Over the past two years, since the day they said '_I do' _he has been more cognizant of the affect even a smile, a touch or a whispered word has on him. But more so than before; he'll need that now, it'll be her emotional strength that will help him piece together this horrible puzzle.

"Mac what is it?" She asks softly; able to tell that with a simple expression on his face that something was troubling him; something personal. She's known him for over ten years; but the past two she's gotten to know every intimate side of him; even those that he tries to hide away from the rest of the world. As she rounded the corner into his office, she had watched his expression turn from horrified to remorse to regret. Regret? What did he regret?

"Drew Bedford is dead; two weeks ago."

"Two?" She manages in a soft tone. And although she knows inside there is no love loss for Drew Bedford; a man that used her to get to her partner before nearly taking his life; the fact that he was now dead was almost disquieting.

"Jimmy wasn't sure to call me and then got wrapped up with their mother's health and...yeah he's dead."

"Dead? How?"

"He um...he hung himself in prison. That was Jimmy and, well he thinks it was Drew's cellmate who perhaps has mob dealings and blackmailed him and Drew couldn't take it...but he has no proof."

"Did he leave a note?" Stella asks softly.

"Asked Jimmy for forgiveness and that was it. Said he didn't blame me or you in any way. I blame myself now."

"What?"

"I somehow feel responsible Stella. I mean he was in there for the past six months and...and I should have gone at least once. I kept telling myself that he didn't want to see me and that going there would only hinder him but I should have gone. Maybe he would have told me or at least pointed me in the direction of this man. I mean if he was being threatened by..."

"Does Jimmy know for sure it was the mob?"

"No."

"How do you know he didn't just want to end his life? Maybe all the things he did finally took their toll on him and he just snapped one day?" Stella reasons.

"Jimmy said he had talked about making a new start. Stella he was given a second chance and Jimmy said he was excited to take it; that he would wait the few years and then maybe move to LA or something. Then things changed when he got his new cellmate and withdrew and then didn't talk to Jimmy at all and...and then I get Jimmy's call today. What?"

"You sound forgiving," Stella notes.

"I guess I am. Is that bad?"

"It makes you the bigger person," Stella praises with a slight frown. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"What else is bothering you Mac?"

_Drew was raped...he was forced to experience something humiliating...something no man should ever face. _But he's not able to actually force his brain to make the words cross his lips.

"Just um...just that."

Both of them sit in silent thought for a few minutes longer before Stella leans over and covers her husband's fingers with her own; giving them a gentle squeeze and offering him a kind smile. "Want to go? Talk more about it at home where you can relax?"

"I will find out the truth Stella," Mac promises her with a firm nod of his head; his brow slightly furrowed. "I owe him that much."

"Mac?"

"I failed to help them once before Stella; I am not going to make that mistake again. I just wish it hadn't come at the cost of his life."

"I know, I would never wish anyone to take their life," she tells him with a heavy sigh. "Well it's almost seven and I think that a fresh start tomorrow would be helpful to both of us."

"Stella, I know how Drew hurt you and I don't want you to..."

"I am helping you with this case and that's final," she states firmly. "Don't make me pull rank Detective Taylor," she lightly warns.

"I'm in charge," Mac arches his brow.

"Only at work," she winks and his face softens.

"Come on Detective Taylor," he tells her as he slowly pushes himself upright; "let's go home and I will gladly allow you to pull rank."

Much like the ride home, however, their dinner time conversation was strained and tense and centered around Drew, his past life and dealings with Mac as a child and then most of the things that Jimmy had told Mac about Drew's stay in the Taylor facility. But true to his word; he didn't tell Stella all the facts surrounding Drew's death; leaving out the bit that he was assaulted, one of the main reasons Jimmy suspects he took his own life. By the time they were getting ready for bed; Mac's mind was so wrapped up in wondering what Drew must have been thinking as he endured his hellish ordeal that he wasn't able to concentrate on his own sexual adventure.

"Mac?"

"I...Stella, I'm sor..." Mac tries, only to have Stella's lips gently brush his. "My mind is not here."

"I know. I'm naked and you can't get it up," she teases.

"Half way doesn't count?" He arches his brows as his lips emit a heavy sigh.

"I know you feel responsible," Stella tries in a soothing tone, her fingers starting to gently massage his tense scalp, his body still on edge and unable to show her what he wants; his member not stiff and erect as with any other normal sexual arousal.

"At least once Stella; I could have gone at least once. Maybe that would have made the difference and he'd be alive right now. I know he tried to kill both of us but...I keep seeing him as little Andy and...I should have gone."

Stella's right hand reaches over and pulls the blanket over both their naked bodies, prompting Mac to look at in wonder. She offers him a loving smile as her lips brush his once more. His left hand snakes behind her head and keeps her lips captive; mostly enjoying the warmth her body was offering.

"I want you to be here in mind and body with me when we make love."

"And I'm not tonight. Do you forgive me?"

"Might punish you tomorrow," she teases as he reaches for the light to turn it off.

"I hope you will," he whispers as he pulls her closer. "I love you Stella."

"I love you too Mac. Talk to me okay. What else is bothering you?"

"I um...well I never told you this before but when we were young; Will, Jimmy and I, we made a pact, to always look after one another. I remember one day after school, Drew, he was Andy back then; he came up to me and asked if he could be part of that pact."

"And when Will was killed..."

"He blamed me; probably telling himself that I broke the pact by not protecting Will at any cost."

"And now you are blaming yourself for not being able to protect Drew _at any cost_?" She arches a brow in wonder.

"I am. It's not just the pact, I just...just wish I had forced myself to go and see him; make him see that..."

"You couldn't have known that he'd take such drastic measures Mac. I'm sure even Jimmy couldn't have known he would do that; if it wasn't a setup.."

"Jimmy said Drew never told him about anyone threatening him."

"And you cannot blame yourself for not being able to read his mind," Stella gently reminds him.

"I know I, I love you," Mac whispers as he kisses her cheek once more.

"Want to try to get some rest?"

"I guess at this hour we should try," Mac sighs heavily as he flips the switch; bathing both of them in darkness; his arms pulling her close and holding on tightly; his mind once again trying to drown out the screams of help that Drew's voice was now offering. Praying that he would at least drift into a light slumber, Mac knows it's a futile request as his mind keeps flashing images of his own abduction by Drew; waking up in the maze of lasers, Drew's court hearing and then finally Drew being taken away.

_'I called for help Mac! You let me down Mac!' _

Drew's voice would taunt over and over in his head all night; coupled with the other news that Jimmy had told him.

_Drew was assaulted...raped...he hung himself...a coward...ashamed...'_

Then the two of them would mix together and soon Mac heard his own voice yelling for help as he was attacked by unseen forces before waking up in a cold sweat.

_'HELP ME!'_

"Mac?" Stella's soft voice inquires as she turns on the lamp on her side of the bed. She looks at his flushed face; dotted with tiny markings of sweat that is keeping some hair matted to his forehead; the rest poking up in various directions; whatever position the pillowed deemed necessary; his eyes wet with misery. "Nightmare?"

"Keep hearing him calling to me for help," Mac whispers as he slumps back into the mound of pillows and looks up at his wife with a soft frown. "I feel guilty."

"Just don't let that guilt eat away at you or cause you do to something rash."

"Rash?" He arches his brows.

"I know you want to help Drew but...but he's at peace now. Maybe now it's time for us all to move on from this; for good."

"Stella..."

"Mac, I'm not trying to sound callous but we can't do anything about it right now. Let's work on that guilt tomorrow."

Mac looks at her and offers a soft nod in agreement. Not wanting anything cold to drink or to waste any more time worrying about his own mental state; Mac watches Stella turn off the light once more before he delights in her warm naked body pressing up against his. He tries to tell himself that Drew is at peace and maybe that was the only way he could find closure from the pain he ultimately caused himself.

_'Mac...'_

_'What's up Andy?'_

_'Jimmy he um...well he told me about the pact with you and he and Will.'_

_'What about it?'_

_'Well I want to be part of it. I want to be included in that group that will look out for the other until we die.'_

_'Andy you are too young to think about that kinda stuff.'_

_'Please Mac? Please let me be part of that pact? That way I'll know you'll be looking out for me...I know I'll always be safe with you looking out for me.'_

_I...god I'm sorry Drew..._Mac's mind laments in sorrow as he pictures Drew as Andy, a small boy full of hope and promise; a future once bright and full of undiscovered possibilities. But that future is quickly darkened as his mind then flashes images of Drew being tied down; his lungs yelling for help as his life is destroyed. Mac feels his eyes water, his fingers gently moving to his face and quickly brushing them away; not wanting to wake Stella with any further tormented memories or images.

_I'm sorry Drew, _Mac's mind finally offers before he forces himself to think back two years ago to their wedding; his mind finally picking one happy moment, their first dance as husband and wife and allows him to dwell on that for the remainder of the night; morning coming all too soon.

XXXXXXXX

"Are you going to be okay today?" Stella asks in wonder as they head toward the lab. She didn't have to see his face to know how much his sleep was affected; how his mind was in turmoil all night; a constant battle between what he could have done and what he failed to do. She had felt his body tense when he turned and heard his whispered curses when she was sure his mind showed him images of Drew's body being found in his cell. What she didn't know was the extent to the horrors that his mind was offering; the dark nature of the real reason behind Drew Bedford's demise.

"I'll be fine," he answers in half truth; his fingers trying to give hers a small comforting squeeze for reassurance that he's going to be okay. He knows she doesn't believe him; but is thankful that she doesnt call him on it, his mind taking some small reprieve in the silent strength she is offering. "I'll just keep busy today."

In truth she knows he'll put on his brave face for the rest of the world to see; locking away the guilt and pain she knows he has from telling himself that he could have done something to stop Drew from taking such drastic measures. But she knows that there was nothing Mac could have done; Drew probably wouldnt have told him anyways.

"Will you?" He asks in concern; knowing how she hated Drew for using her to try to hurt him; not to mention the pictures he had of her; an invasion of her personal privacy.

"I'm oddly at peace. I guess its closure in many ways for me," she states with sigh; absently staring out the window with a frown. The rest of the ride to the lab is spent talking about Drew's childhood and what else his cellmate might have threatened him with.

"I'll finish up the Simpson evidence from yesterday and I'll see you later," Stella tells Mac as they linger in the hallway outside his office. "But if you need me to help with anything you let me know."

"First button on speed dial," he replies in haste.

"See you soon."

He gives her a tight lipped smile; the corner of his eye picking up Don Flack heading in their direction. And true to her suspicion; as soon as Flack approaches, Mac is all business; his shield once again proving that Mac Taylor doesn't seem affected by the common emotions of the everyday man.

"I um heard about Drew Bedford," Flack starts; Stella already taken her leave. "You okay?"

"Jimmy's worse than I am. I just wish I could have helped with something."

"Such as?"

"Even just one visit might have helped him."

"If he even wanted your help," Flack replies.

"Now you sound like Stella," Mac quips and Flack nods his head. "Can you find the name of Drew's cellmate?"

"You don't think it was suicide?"

"Just a name Don, that's all I ask."

"Sure. I have to go out to Rikers anyway. Got a call about another inmate who hung himself last night. When did Drew die?"

"Two weeks ago. I can't fault Jimmy for not calling sooner. I um...well it's over and that's that."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Drew he was...yeah I'm fine."

"Mac?" Flack presses a bit more.

Mac looks at his friend and frowns. _Can I tell Don and not my wife and partner? He would understand Jimmy wanting discretion; he's a guy. Stella...oh damn I can't tell him and not her. _

"Just get me that name Don; I'll do the rest."

"You thinking blackmail?"

"Jimmy thinks so. Apparently Drew had a line on a whole other life andand sounded like he was going to take it. If he was squeezed then I just want to know if there is something we can do. Just a name Don, I'll take it from there."

"Okay well I gotta run. This call...actually I think it was one of yours."

"Who?"

"Larry Galley?"

"Larry...he was..." Mac's mind thinks back.

_'I didn't kill my wife Detective Taylor. I am being framed by my partner.'_

_'I give you my word if you are telling me the truth I will find out and work to secure your freedom.'_

"Right he was the guy that came forward after six months and claimed his partner set him up. Said the first CSI team didn't process the evidence properly."

"He was right. Vincent Bosco killed his wife," Mac frowns. "I proved that two days ago and am just waiting on a bunch of legal...wait he's your call?" Mac asks in dread; the sudden realization of Flack's earlier words finally hitting him. "He's dead also?"

_'Detective.__ Did you find something?'_

_'I did Larry. I was able to match Vincent's prints with the murder weapon. We are just awaiting a court order for his arrest and your appeal. It'll take a few days but you are now a free man.'_

_'I have been waiting in this hell hole for six months; a few more days won't kill me...won't kill me...kill me...'_

"Mac?" Flack's voice instantly breaks him from his thoughts; forcing Mac's tormented gaze to lock with his. "I'm sorry Mac."

"I gave him my word Don. I swore to him that he was innocent and gave him my word I would grant his freedom," Mac lightly snaps. "What the hell is going on? Two suicides in two weeks?"

"What do you mean what is going on? You think someone killed this Larry Galley fellow and made it look like a suicide? Why? For what reason?"

"Maybe the same guy that got to Drew Bedford; maybe for the same reason."

"Prisoners kill themselves all the time Mac."

"I think they are both connected."

"Okay now, you're grasping at straws," Flack states with a slight shake of his head. "I know we don't believe in coincidences but these two didn't exactly hang in the same social circles."

"They were in the same cell block in the same prison Don, they probably had no choice when it came to friends. Drew overhears something, something that could get him into trouble and wants to tell someone. He tells Larry and then goes to his cellmate, threatens to tell on what he knows and this guy arranges his death. He finds out Larry knows what Drew does and then takes out the final threat."

"Again, I ask for what reason?"

"Just find me the name of Drew's cellmate and see if he had any contact with Larry or the mob."

With that Mac turns on his heel and heads toward his office; flipping on his computer and then calling up the database, first name to look up Drew Bedford. But as he looks up the name of the man he used to play with as a kid; another man's face pops into his mind, further adding to his already mounting mental anguish.

_'I asked for you Detective Taylor because I know how much justice means to you. Please help me, I didn't kill my wife. I loved her; she was my life. Now I'm alone and always will be.'_

_'Mr. Galley I hear that plea on almost on a daily basis; do you want to know how many of them are usually lying just to get a second chance at doing it all again?'_

_'Please...I loved my wife. I was out of town. My partner Vincent did it. He works in the same chemical lab as me and could easily extract my fingerprints. He had motive andthe first team didn't do all their homework. Please Detective Taylor. If you just follow this one leadcheck the safe you'll find what you need there. Please?'_

And that was all it took; Mac followed the lead, it was true and the rest led to the tentative early release date of Larry Galley. However, that was short lived as he too hung himself; telling the world he was sorry and that was it. As soon as he closes his eyes; Mac's mind is now filled with voices and images. Jimmy scolding him for allowing his brother to die; Drew's voice begging for help before he's tied up and assaulted; Larry's voice telling him he went against his word and failed and Stella's voice telling him there was nothing he could do to prevent any of it from happening.

"I have to make amends for both of them," Mac mutters angrily under his breath. He pulls up Drew's file and then does a cross reference with Larry Galley. The fact that they hung themselves in jail wasn't enough to start an investigation; prisoners died in jail every day; he needed more. A solid motive; mob blackmail was what he was looking for. But then something else caught his eye; an entry in Larry's file that stated he wanted only his 'friend' cellblock guard Maurice Wicks to handle his private correspondence. This was the same man that Drew had befriended and trusted. Wicks it seems also befriended Larry the first day he arrived. Was Wicks also on the take? He certainly wouldn't be the first public servant to come onto the payroll of a well funded crime family. But what did both Drew and Larry have on Wicks that warranted their deaths?

"I sent Larry a note...telling him about his release...damn it!" Mac curses as he runs a search under Maurice Wicks name and how many other inmates he was supposedly 'friends' with and then how many of those ended their lives in suicides. An hour later Mac's anxiety has grown to the point that his stomach is tight and his mind racing.

"Five others in just under a year. All of them had been the same as Drew and Larry in for around six months before they supposedly committed suicide," he ponders as his fingers nervously drum on the desk beside the mouse; his eyes still fixed on the search results on the computer screen before him. He leans back in his chair, his fingers moving from the spot beside the mouse to the speaker button on the phone; a moments pause before he finally presses it down and then starts to dial.

"Don, did you find anything on Drew's cellmate?"

"Name is Trevor Graham. Well he's got a tie to the Cuistado family; a bit part but enough of a part to threaten someone like Drew Bedford with," Flack relays with a heavy sigh. "I can start an investigation into that if you'd like."

"Might have a bigger problem."

"Such as?"

"By any chance have you seen a bald guy with a Celtic cross on the back of his neck?"

"Odd you should ask," Flack answers.

"Why?"

"A guy fitting that description came and told me that he has information on one of the guards."

"This information...it...well does it have to do with this guard assaulting certain male prisoners and..."

"Raping them?" Flack finishes. "Yes why?"

"I think I know who that guard might be."

"This guy didn't name names Mac."

"Did he describe Maurice Wicks?"

"Well he gave me a description but I didn't meet this Wicks fellow. Have his picture ready for me when I get back and I'll let you know who he described. You think that happened to Larry and Drew?"

"Jimmy said that when he went to get Drew's things the guy with the tattoo approached him and told him that his so called friend turned on him and I guess wanted something more than just a few minutes conversation. Jimmy said Drew's only friend was a guard named Maurice. Even more disturbing is the fact that Larry Galley also befriended the same guard."

"Mac, that tattoo guy told me that the guy who died last night was also assaulted by Maurice Wicks. He said he saw it happen a few times to a few others; knows where Wicks takes them; how he subdues them, who else might help, his pattern of who he befriends and a few other things."

"Damn it Don. What the hell is going on in there?"

"Maybe it's not the mob; maybe that is just a convenient front?" Flack ponders. "Everyone knows that the mob could use blackmail to get to anyone."

"Will this guy testify to that?"

"Well I asked him if he'd be willing to put his name on a testimony sheet in return for a reduced sentence and he told me to pound sand and walked away; wouldn't even give me his name. We could arrest Wicks on suspicion," Flack suggests.

"That would only transfer the problem from one place to another," Mac growls. "If this bastard is indeed befriending certain prisoners, for whatever reason, assaulting them and then arranging their deaths I want this stopped for good."

"How Mac? Anyone who was assaulted by Maurice Wicks is dead and the only person that can corroborate that theory won't come forward with any kind of written statement. We have nothing; only conjecture and we can't even go to the judge that..."

"Don, what is it?" Mac inquires after a few seconds pause; his mind racing that his friend has now remembered some other pertinent information; no matter how disturbing it might be.

"Mac did you do a search on which guard was assigned to which inmates that died?"

"I did why?"

"How about the _judge_ that presided over each of those sentences?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Franklin Wicks is Maurice's brother. He'd know the type; loners, chip on their shoulder, claiming they're innocent and whatever. I mean it's another theory but..."

"But it seems to fit the profile."

"I mean unless both Drew and Larry overheard the mob hit of the century there would be no reason to put that much effort into arranging their deaths. If this Maurice fellow did um...assault them, and they finally stood up to him and said they were going to tell on him then he would have motive and means to get alone with them and arrange their deaths in whatever means he wanted. That we can investigate."

"We can't let them continue to get away with this Don."

"We?"

"I owe them Don; not just Larry and Drew; but the five others that the system failed to help in the past year."

"What are you planning?"

"I'll talk to you later. I have a meeting to take."

XXXXXXXX

"Are you serious?" Stella's voice raises a few pitches as she faces Mac in the small meeting room; the door closed for privacy.

He knew going to her would result in a strained conversation; a mild showdown at best. But in truth she was more than his partner; she was his best friend; his soul mate and his sounding board whenever he needed a reason for some undertaking that would also affect her life and their future together. But as soon as he told her, he knew it would be an uphill battle for both of them.

"Stella, I gave my word to Larry; he was one day away from freedom. He wouldn't take his life. And Drew was..."

"You going undercover, trying to flesh out someone who works for the Cuistado crime family is just stupid. If these guys do have someone on the inside who is able to blackmail them and then arrange their deaths what are you going to do?" Stella queries; her questions based on the information Mac had given her; leaving out the part of the alleged assaults, not able to quite yet quantify the word of another inmate who could just be looking to cause trouble or throw suspicion off the crime family by pointing fingers at someone else.

But inside Mac knows he can't just leave it at the word of someone else; he has to find out for himself if indeed Drew was targeted by a vicious monster; ruining his dignity before falsifying his death. Rape and murder; two things he hates the most. Going undercover seemed like a desperate act, but one he knew he had to try; the only chance was going inside; searching for a monster with insider knowledge.

"As soon as the blackmail threat comes through then I'll be pulled. Stella I'll be wired and..."

"How Mac? Because when you go into...damn it you can't do this," she groans as she runs two hands through her curls, not caring if she's messing them more; her mind and heart racing with the terrible knowledge that her beloved partner and husband could be walking into a death trap that was already set. "They'll know you."

"I won't be going in as Mac Taylor and I have never had personal dealings with Franklin Wicks or any of any of the guards and I'll be in a cell block where I haven't put anyone away. They won't know me."

"General population?"

"I'll be careful."

"Why are you even asking me what I think? You obviously sound like you have your mind made up," she glares at him with a frustrated expression.

"I am asking because the only thing that is going to keep me sane in there is the knowledge that you are behind me one hundred percent," Mac states in no uncertain terms.

"I'm always behind you Mac; just don't expect me always to like what I am backing one hundred percent."

"Larry was innocent Stella."

"Drew wasn't!" Stella snaps, turning around, her right hand on her hip and left on her forehead.

Mac studies her tense posture before moving in a bit closer; his hands gently resting on her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes close; squeezing tightly as if it's the last time she'll feel his touch on her skin; his breath on her face; his voice in her ears.

"Don't go Mac," she whispers in torment, her voice breaking and her body about to collapse.

"I wish there was another way Stella, but there isn't," he whispers as he holds her close; not wanting to let go until she felt she was ready.

"There has to be."

"Not if we are to stop this guy. Don can't go in because he was there today and I'm not about to send in Danny or Sheldon. I have worked in much tenser situations in the past and..."

"Were you married then?" Stella asks in a tormented whisper and Mac's face offers an automatic wince of remorse.

"Stella?"

"You don't get it do you Mac? I'm not just talking to my professional partner; you are my husband. It's a little different to say of course I have your back and then go home and just get on with my life; you are my life! You live in my home; our home. When I'm alone at home, safe I might add and youd...amn it Mac you weren't married when you were in the marines."

"I thought of that and...of course this is going to affect me Stella; I'll be in there and you out here and..."

"I'll be safe Mac. Can you assure me the same thing?" She asks firmly.

"I will be fine," Mac states fatefully.

"Mac..."

"Stella, there are seven men in total that lost their lives; most likely in an unwitting manner; murdered for no reason; for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's true that, outside of Larry all were guilty of something, but they deserved to spend their time not die...well the way they did. Now they all 'allegedly' had affiliations with inmates who had criminal dealings with organized crime; but they had no dealings with them outside of prison. These guys were targeted on the inside only. They also all had the same 'friend' in one of the prison guards and were sentenced by the same Judge. I have some whispers from the inside that their deaths were staged for another purpose. That person won't come foreword..."

"Because they want to live," are the tormented words that escape her lips. "Will you be safe?"

"I won't have someone with me twenty-four/seven if that's what you are asking."

"Alone and vulnerable."

"Stella."

"You know I don't play the emotional worried wife card very often, especially at work, but I am going to in this case. I'm scared to death for you."

"I'll be wearing a camera."

"How?"

"Glasses," Mac states as Stella slowly turns around to face him.

"When?"

"Flack is on his way back and I'm going to talk to Sinclair and...Stella I need to know if you..." he starts only to have her quickly press her mouth to his and silence him with a hungry kiss; pulling back a few breathless seconds later, both of them thankful they picked a room with now windows and a closed door.

"I love you Stella Taylor, that is what is going to help me get this done," he assures her with a firm tone, his forehead resting on hers.

"I love you more than anything Mac Taylor and am always behind you. Come and find me after you talk to Sinclair."

Mac allows his eyes to remain locked with hers for what seems like an eternity before he offers her a soft nod and then turns and leaves, opening the door, his heart racing and his mind in turmoil. Stella watching in anguish, her heart racing the same speed as his and her mind in a dizzying downward spiral.

Mac was going undercover; undercover on his own, no backup, no one on the inside watching his back at every turn; he'll be alone and cut off from her. She feels her stomach tighten further; her fingers grasping the closes chair, forcing her to remain upright as the room starts to lightly spin. Her eyes threaten to water and her chest heaves painfully as her brain forces her to hear Mac's voice calling to her for help.

"Mac..." she whispers in misery as a single tear finally escapes. She quickly brushes it away and swallows hard, telling herself the day was far from over and she still had a job to do; she had to gather whatever information she could on the organization behind the man her husband was going to risk his life to take down; never realizing that her information would be in vain, the man her husband was targeting was capable of inflicting pain far worse than a simple bullet between the eyes.

She slowly heads back into the hallway and gazes at his empty office; her heart racing.

_Mac, what are you doing? _Her mind wonders in misery.

XXXXXXXX

**A Few Days Later**

"Name."

"Mark Travers," Mac mumbles, his glare angry and his posture tense; his heart rate flirting with critical. He stands before the prison admitting desk with a tight stomach; his mind racing as to what he really had gotten himself into. But the minute the false name crosses his lips, he knows there is no going back; he's trapped and must see his mission through to completion, no matter the obstacles that are yet to come.

"Empty your possessions into this."

Mac takes his fake wallet, key to a rental apartment, a cigarette lighter, a small flask of whiskey; leaving his specially fitted glasses with camera in them on his face and the dog tags around his neck. Normally not obeying an authority figure would be out of the question; however in this case, it was warranted even encouraged; all part of the cover story that made up Mark Travers; small time crook, finally booked on the murder of a bar tender, but always claiming that he was framed.

"Tags too. Move your good for nothing ass Travers!"

Mac looks at one of the guards and offers a slight sneer, hesitating to move.

"Oh an individual huh?" One of them growls as they near Mac.

Not normally a man to be intimidated; Mac knows if it was one on one, he could easily overpower the man coming up on his right; baton or not. But in this arena, no friendly faces looking on; no one to watch his back and not really fancying a beating in the first few minutes of his incarceration, he pulls back and starts to make a move to remove his tags.

"Bastard," Mac mutters under his breath.

"Just watch your ass Travers. Now follow officer Wicks for the rest of your welcome home package," the administrator offers Mac a twisted smile; a smile that sends instant shivers up his entire being, his mind racing with thoughts as to who else Wicks had on his team; who else took pleasure in helping Wicks destroy the lives of men in such an undignified manner.

"Okay now strip," he's commanded, his core on fire and his head almost light; the bridge of his nose offering greasy sweat beneath the dark glasses that make up part of his cover.

When in the marines he was used to being in close quarters with other men; even in intimate situations such as showers or the medical chamber. But when he starts to slowly undress he feels his anxiety skyrocketing; even more so when Maurice Wicks arranges a small mirror so that he's able to see all that Mac has to offer. In the marines, the other men never looked at him the way Wicks was; never made him feel as if they were examining him in a way that was reserved for his wife alone.

_Give me strength Stella,_ his mind begs in earnest as he quickly moves himself out of the line of sight, his brain offering a sigh of relief when his ears pick up a soft curse from Wick's voice; that he's no longer the object of his visual fascination. Just the thought of another man watching with vested interest makes his stomach tighten and he wonders how he'll be able to endure the coming days; especially knowing that he'll be putting himself in the way of a man that he is under the assumption wants more than just a benign friend.

"Hey four eyes, spectacles also!" The other guard taunts as he slowly walks up to Mac with a black baton in his hand; Mac standing before him in only his underwear, his posture firm; his brain warning him to stand down, it's not the time for a fight. Once again the man's eyes start to examine Mac's nearly naked frame, a slow smile spreading across is evil lips; the tip of his tongue almost licking his lips in anticipation.

His mind once again races with thoughts of doubt; his brain wondering what he had gotten himself into? What had he volunteered to do? Wondering how he'd actually be able to corner his intended target; a man now watching him; a man he knows takes much delight in the sexual destruction of other men. I can do this; he tries to tell himself as he flinches as the man nears him, his heart now beating painfully in his chest.

_'Mac I only want you in there a week; two at the most,' Sinclair had stated. 'Seek out who you need, get what you want and then get out.' _

"I can't see without them."

"Hear you was in the army."

"Ammunition blast to the eyes; was temporarily blinded; I can't see without them," Mac tries again; hoping they'll buy it.

"Ain't that interesting," the man before him nods to the man behind him.

"Can I keep them on?"

"Fine. Just hurry up and change already."

Mac takes the orange prison uniform, white undershirt, socks and shoes; heading to another corner and changing quickly; the feeling of the two sets of male eyes watching his every move starting to undermine his normally calm exterior. Once he's dressed, he's roughly pulled into the main hallway; his body once again seizing as he's escorted down a hallway with barred prisoners on one side; some watching with interest, some with disdain, others with judging eyes and others with hungry ulterior motives. The other side; a wall, barren and devoid of hope; feelings and emotions that were coursing through his entire being.

"Cellblock D3. Welcome to your new home for the next few years," Mac is told as he's slapped firmly on the back. He hears the whistles; the names and the veiled taunts, his mind racing with new doubts and fears.

Mac gazes into the semi-dark cell before him and feels his fists tighten around the clean bed linen clutched firmly in his grasp. _What the hell have I gotten myself into? _His mind races with new found fear. He's not claustrophobic by nature; having done survival training that included confined space extraction. But this was different; this place was starting to close in on him because of his own inner fears and growing doubts. _Can I do this without failing?_

He takes a step forward and then another into the small, suffocating space; his heart beating painfully in his chest; his lungs having difficulty finding fresh air; his stomach wanting to give up whatever was leftover from breakfast; his feet feeling like cement beneath him.

_'I'll always be with you Mac,' Stella had promised. _

But as the door starts to slowly close, her voice fades; quickly replaced by the beating of his heart, about to burst his ear drums.

_'Just remember how much I love you Mac.'_

"Welcome to hell Travers," one of the guards laughs as he slaps Mac hard on the back; prompting Mac to slowly turn around; his gaze coming to face forward just as the metal doors clang shut; his freedom taken away by his own doing. "Your new BFF will be along shortly. Oh yeah I'm sure you and him are going to get on just fine," Wicks turn to laugh. "Yeah he's gonna like you but maybe not as much as me."

"Pardon?"

"Don't worry Mark, you and I are going to become good friends."

Mac tells himself to show no fear as he tries to swallow; unable to get past the large lump that has now formed in his throat his mind racing with a million different questions.

Did I do the right thing? What if Drew actually did kill himself? Could I have been mistaken? How far would I go for a case? What will I have to face in here? What if I make Stella a widow? What if I fail? What else is going to happen?

* * *

**A/N:** So what did you think? In the next chapter there will be flashbacks to Sinclair and Stella and the sentencing so please be patient. Want to see what Mac has to face? Overcome? Deal with? How will Stella cope? Help Mac? All that and much more will be answered as we embark on this adventure. Not sure how many chapters this will be but have a bit planned so please let me know if I should continue or shelve.

This story **will not** go into graphic details of the assaults themselves; please don't ask for that as the focus of the story is the trap, the coping and aftermath. This story is not meaning to offend and don't worry our Mac is not a victim (you know I couldn't do that to my beloved Mac eek!) but he will experience a very traumatic event! So if you know my M stuff already you know there are no overly graphic descriptions. Besides if I can't read overly graphic assault details you know I am NOT going to write them and obviously no Stella harm.

Okay so you know how much I love Mac but this is a story that is going to play with the mental aspect of fears and doubts and how far justice has to go or one man's quest for vengeance. And it will also deal with how a strong person, who is temporarily weakened (in his case mentally) rises from a bleak situation and can face the world on their terms with renewed strength and determination. Of course with the love and strength of Stella with him every step of the way. But this story will be angsty and deal with a lot of emotional conflict and marital bonding through psychological and physical trials. But I cannot tell you more or it'll give the story away. If you need to ease your mind please PM me. I have dealt with this topic in my profession but since its fiction will not cross the boundaries and any OC names are purely coincidental.

If you want to flame; please just leave, its very grade 2 and you have been warned. To the rest, I hope you'll give it a chance and please review before you go. I am extremely nervous about even going further as this is way out of my comfort writing zone so please be kind.

~End of long author's note (gosh that was almost a mini story in itself) sorry!


	2. Journey into Hell

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 2 - Journey into Hell**

**A/N: **Thanks everyone for the support for chapter 1, gosh I was nervous! I do hope you'll continue with this story. Parts in italics going forward will be flashbacks. Hope that's not confusing and thanks in advance. Oh and unless otherwise noted Jessica is always alive in my stories; I miss her too much to have her gone for good!!

* * *

Stella finds herself staring out the window; her heart in agony and her fists so tightly balled her nails are causing small divots to form in the soft flesh of her palms.

"Mac...god I miss you already," she whispers as she leans back in her chair, casting her worried emerald orbs outside into the dismal rainy weather; nothing helping to lift her mood. Mac was gone; left this morning for his new undercover assignment. His cover a two bit criminal convicted of murder, alone with no family no one to love him. That is what hurt her the most when Sinclair had come in to confirm it for them. That Mac would be completely cut off from the outside world; she wasn't even allowed to come in as his sister. He had to _appear _a vulnerable target.

"Mac..." she allows his name to roll off his tongue once again as her eyes close in sorrow.

_'When do you leave?'_

_'Right now.'_

_'I love you Mac, never forget that.'_

_'I never will.'_

He had went first to a phony holding cell and then before Judge Wicks for his sentencing and then off to Rikers. He had handed her his ring and put on the phony glasses. But that was it; his time was up, he had to go.

_'I'll only be gone a few weeks at the most.'_

_'Weeks?__ Damn it Mac...'_

_'Two?'_

_'One?'_

_'Trust me Stella, I am not looking forward to this as well. I'll seek out the guy with the tattoos, find the cellmate and then see if I can get what I need...this guy to confess or to put his name on a statement form then I'm done. Could be done in a few days.'_

_'A few days?__ Really?'_

_'I want this over just as fast as you. If I can get him to confess to witnessing and then try to convince him to tell someone else then I can get Sinclair to do the rest.'_

_'And if you can't get what you need in a few days? Mac it's going to take longer...'_

_'Then I come out in a week or so and we try something else. I honestly don't know how long it will take but I have to try this Stella.'_

_'Why?'_

_'Those men died because I failed.'_

_'You didn't fail anyone Mac. You couldn't have known.'_

_'I should have!'_

_'You are not the savior of the world!'_

She had snapped at him; allowed her emotions to run away with her words and before her brain could react she was storming out of the room, not wanting the tears to be seen by anyone; her husband included. But she had allowed him to take her aside, into a private room and hold her while she expressed all the anger and helpless frustration inside by means of fluid emotion; and then she was fine. At least that was the lie she told him.

The night before they had spent awake; tightly wrapped in each other's arms after they had made love; as they tried to tell each other it was the right thing to do; that the monster had to be stopped before more suspicious deaths were caused and more men's legacy's were destroyed. Stella always felt that Mac was holding something back; not telling her all the details; but as much as she pried, he backed off until she finally told herself it was simple remorse and he would be fine.

_He's an ex-marine, _she kept trying to convince her mind; telling herself that her husband had faced worse in the past; that he nearly died doing something he believed in. Here he would at least have Sinclair to back him; the feed from the small camera in this glasses going into a special file that only Sinclair and Flack would have access to; herself when it was permitted. She had removed herself from wanting to watch the footage; telling herself that seeing him in such a vulnerable setting would only force her to become a hindrance to the team, and right now he needed her to be sharp and focused.

She looks at the band of gold on her left hand; a bold reminder to the world that she belongs to him and him to her; only he went in without that reminder.

_'I have to appear to be alone,' _was part of the cover he was forced to take on. His band hung on a simple chain around her neck; the metal singeing her flesh with the sad reminder that her husband was away; not where he belonged at her side.

She closes her eyes; her mind picturing his handsome face and for a split second her lips automatically curl upward. But as she starts to think about him being found out; in the middle of a prison fight; alone and unarmed, her heart rate quickens and her breathing shallows. Her eyes start to water and she quickly snaps them open, swallowing hard and telling herself that nothing is going to happen to him; he'll be fine and in a few weeks they'll be laughing about this as if it were a distant memory.

At least that's what she hoped; inside her gut was telling her something else. A feeling; a bad feeling of impending doom that her beloved husband was walking into the devils trap; a place for which there is no easy escape route; at least none without going through the devils fire itself.

"Mac..." his name leaves her lips with a soft whisper. "I just pray you are okay."

She quickly wipes away the tear and forces herself up out of her chair; no desire to go home to an empty apartment, her mind inside that small confining cell with her husband; her misery just as strong as his.

XXXXXXXX

Mac tries to force his mind to think on his wife; praying he can hear her voice inside his head as he goes about getting himself settled in his new living space; an area he already hates, but one he is going to be confined to for the next few weeks at least; less if he is fortunate.

His eyes start to examine the area around him as his mind thinks back to the discussion he had with Sinclair.

_'I should have my head examined for actually agreeing to this,' Sinclair's voice had grumbled._

_'Sir, if we can prove that Judge Wicks is sending specific prisoners to certain areas and the his brother, prison guard Maurice Wicks is arranging their murders by taking a bribe from the mob then we can bring both of them down and end this nightmare. Larry Galley was an innocent man.'_

_'Drew Bedford wasn't.'_

_'He didn't deserve the fate he was forced.'_

_'And can you assure me that this is based on a sense of justice and not some misguided personal revenge mission?'_

_'Of course part of it is personal,' Mac had argued. 'I would be lying if I said it wasn't. But I didn't know the other five he is allegedly accused of murdering.'_

_'Detective Flack?'_

_'I have run the profiles on all the men that had died. All were alone; Larry Galley most recently because his wife had died. They all had claimed they were innocent but still had a verbal disdain for the judicial system in general. They all...' Flack's voice dies out in his head as he continues his discussion with Sinclair. Both he and Flack had made a pact not to elaborate on the assaults becuase that would up the risk factor for Mac. So while it was mentioned once, the mob angle and arranged murder were discussed as the top motive._

_'I can't guarantee your safety Taylor.'_

_'I have had my lab tech Adam arrange a special pair of glasses that will send back real time feedback to a data recorder that only yourself and Don have access to. He has arranged for a dummy number to be set up. Once I have been given the threat of blackmail and then death, I'll call the number and he'll get an onsite guard to get me out.'_

_'And this guard?__ Where is he stationed?'_

_'Another cellblock.__ I'll be fine Sir.'_

_'Sounds like you got it all figured out Taylor.'_

_'Not all of it, lots could go wrong...go wrong...' _

As he would with any unfamiliar scene before him, Mac's brain starts to catalogue his new surroundings. The man he'll be sharing the cell with, appears to be somewhat religious, a copy of the Bible, along with a picture of a small boy right beside his pillow. Also in the army; a tarnished medal; probably a reminder of the glory days when life seemed to have a purpose and the future was bright and full of hope.

Other than that, this man didn't have much and didn't offer Mac anything tangible in the way of what he would have to face from the person he'd be forced to call 'friend' for the duration of his stay. He gazes at the top bunk and frowns; always hating the top bunk ever since his first day in the marines. But since he has no choice and isn't about to get on bad terms with a man he'll probably need information from, Mac slowly heads toward the bunk ladder and places his things on top.

_'Will be hard to sleep all alone at night Mac.__ Might just work straight through or...or stay with...'_

_'I wish I could call you but...'_

_'I know...enough talking for now Mac. Make love to me like it's the las...'_

_'No Stella, never the last. Just once more before a break.'_

_'Charmer.'_

Mac's curl upward as his brain dwells upon the happy memory of him and Stella making passionate love shortly thereafter; however he quickly snaps himself back to reality as his ears pickup a distinct clicking sound and he turns around, coming face to face with an older man with a slightscowl. He stood about maybe six feet; a bit taller than Mac, with clear blue eyes and a salt and pepper buzz cut; a smattering of military tattoos and the slight stains of nicotine on his fingers from the occasional cigarette.

Mac feels his throat swallow involuntarily and his stomach tighten once again but tells himself to show no fear; that was the only way to gain respect.

"So you're my new bunk mate huh," the older man states with a heavy sigh as he looks Mac up and down.

But unlike the time when he was in interrogation and then forced to change; when this man looks at him he can tell it's with a fatherly glance, not the hungry gaze of a man with a dark purpose.

"What's your name son?"

"Mark Travers," Mac gives the man his phony name.

"Ronald Knight but you can call me Ron."

Mac offers him a nod but doesn't make a move to leave his position; unsure of his behaviour around a man that had already claimed this spot as his own.

"Top bunk okay for ya?" Ron asks with a slight air of indifference as he slowly ambles past Mac, giving him a gentle shove to the right, before he slowly eases himself down onto a small chair beside the small desk.

"Its fine," Mac replies with a slight frown.

"First timer huh," Ron lets out a heavy sigh as he gestures for Mac to sit down on his bunk.

Mac offers him a nod before he eases himself down onto the edge of the bed; cursing his nervous anxiety. Tomorrow he would at least be able to keep himself occupied with going about his task; the real reason for his being inside; tracking down the man who knows that Maurice Wicks is guilty of and then trying to arrange a sting to bring him down.

"Don't talk much do ya?" Ron grumbles.

"Not much to say," Mac replies with a slight huff.

"Whatcha in for?"

"Murder, but I didn't do it."

"Yeah that's what I claimed also. That was five years ago. Once you in here ain't nobody goin' to give a damn aboutcha. You got a girl on the outside or somethin'?"

"No, it's just me," Mac clears his throat, his mind picturing the beautiful face of his wife as he tells the man before him another lie.

_'When I am inside, your love and strength will be the only things to keep me sane and alert,' _he had told her firmly. However, as much as he knows her love will keep him strong; he wishes he could have arranged for her to come on the inside with him. Trouble was, since it was a men's only facility; she wasn't allowed on the staff, it would be too dangerous.

But before he can offer another word, Mac hears shuffling to his left and quickly turns his head to see a shadow reflecting on the floor. _Wicks?__ Or someone else? _He wonders.

"Ain't no secrets in here," Ron's gruff voice calls his attention back. "Don't worry most of em are harmless."

"And the others?"

"Just stay away from certain areas."

"Why?" Mac inquires with raised brows.

"Just because."

"Anyone I need to look out for?" Mac asks; thankful that the shadow has finally taken its leave, giving him a small mental break.

"For a guy who ain't got much to say you ask a lot of questions."

"First timer."

"Why you wear them glasses? Don't really suit you."

"I was in the army and was caught in an ammunitions blast and the glare exploded my cornea's. Couldn't see myself putting in contact lenses."

"Where were you stationed when that happened?"

"Beirut. 83'..."

"Heard about that. It was bad," Ron states as he rolls up his pant leg and shows Mac a steel shaft that fits below his knee cap down to his prosthetic foot. "Got that fighting the Khmer Rouge. Yep them prisons in Cambodia make this place seem like the Hilton."

"What are you in for?"

"Got a bad temper. Was five years ago; out with a buddy when in a drunken stupor he confessed to cheating with my wife. Well I up and killed him and now I'm here. See that picture?" Ron points to another small picture on his table of a little boy holding up a fish. "That is Billy my grandson. I gave him a few bucks for his birthday last month and he went and bought himself a rod and some bait and caught himself a fish and sends me that picture. I have about six months to go; getting out on good behavior and then I'll be able to see him again. Wish it was sooner."

"And your um...your wife?" Mac dares to inquire.

"Said it was one night. She's waiting for me. I mean hell at our age this kinda thing ain't supposed to happen right? But she done forgive me and I'm gonna make sure I show her that I earned that. I think we both learned a lot since that night. Course being in this damned place ain't helped a bit," he groans. "When you get out you get yourself a good woman and leave your angry ways behind."

"That's...that's good advice," Mac's eyes drop his fingers; his mind picturing the band of gold that was there the day before.

_'Mac?__ What is it?'_

_'Every day for the past two years Stella...this ring has never left my hand, no matter what. And now...I guess knowing that I'm now taking it off as my own doing...I...'_

_'Let me help you,' she had told him as her slightly trembling fingers slowly pulled off the band of gold and then curled her fingers around it; clutching it tightly her closed fist. 'I'll keep it.'_

_'Where?'_

_'On a chain, around my neck...close to my heart; where you will always be.'_

Mac looks up to see Ron studying him with a quizzical stare and soon starts to feel himself lightly squirm as the older man's gaze starts to penetrate his nervous exterior. "What?"

"You don't seem the murderin' type."

"I guess much like yourself, alcohol makes you do stupid things," Mac states with a firm expression.

"Suppose so," Ron exhales heavily. "Well I usually read before I turn in. I don't snore but sometimes will curse; don't take it personally. If you make a fuss I will let you know," he lightly warns.

"Fair enough," Mac agrees with a slight smirk.

"Anything I should know about you?"

"Not really."

Ron gives Mac a nod before he turns toward his Bible; picks it up, flips it open and then starts to read. Mac slowly leans back on the metal side of the bunk; his brain trying to tell his heart rate to calm a little; his whole body, however, still on edge.

But just as he's about to tell his mind to pay attention to the words, a soft prayer before they turn in; they both hear a soft snicker and look up to see Maurice Wicks watching them intently.

_'Both Larry and Drew were befriend right from day one. Right from the star...he picked them out...'_

"Evening boys. Hoping to seek a little redemption."

"Doesn't hurt," Mac replies with an uneasy frown.

"Sure," Wicks laughs. "Well I'm here to give Mark the grand tour."

Already hating his assumed name; especially the way it rolls off the slick tongue of Maurice Wicks, Mac feels his body tense immediately. _It's starting already? _He ponders in concern. But knowing that this is the man he's hoping to bring down, he has no choice but to swallow his rising anxiety and comply. But as he remembers the discussion he had with Flack and then how Judge Wicks looked at him in the courtroom he starts to put together a few more pieces of the puzzle.

_'Tough guy huh,' Judge Franklin Wicks gruff voice had boomed in the small hearing chamber as Mac stood beside Flack and two other officers; both in on the sting, but not given any of the finite details._

_'Whatever,' Mac had offered flippantly._

_'File says here you got no friends. Well Mark Travers you are going to a place where I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends.'_

_'I don't want any friends!'_

_'You might need them were your going. In fact I'll put you someplace special. Cellblock D3. They'll know how to treat a guy as special as you.'_

_'For how long?'_

_'The next several years.__ Maybe that'll teach you to kill again and then show up with your smug face in my courtroom. Get him out of here.'_

"Come on now, move your ass," Wicks snickers as Mac slowly stands up and walks over to him. "Put your hands out," Wicks directs. Mac looks back at Ron who simply shrugs and then back at Wicks who only offers him a firm glare. Maurice Wicks would intimidate even the most brave man. Standing well over six foot two, built like a tree trunk, dark hair and black eyes; large hands that could inflict real pain and chest that looks like it could be hit with a jackhammer and still keep going. In an one on one fight, it would be a tough go he if he was alone.

"Why?"

"Now. I gave you an order Mark."

"Am I being taken away?"

"If I have to come in there you will be. Hands...now!" Wicks orders.

Telling himself he doesn't want to cause a noticble fuss on his first day and with some hesitation Mac slowly slides his hands through the meal opening, biting back his anger when a set of heavy handcuffs are slapped around his wrists; each on the tightest setting, trapping him.

"What are these for?"

"It's for your own good," Wicks states with a smile. "Plus I like them."

"And where are we going?"

"You ask too many damn questions," Wicks huffs as he slides the door open; a small snicker from Ron Knight not lost on Mac's angry brain.

"Ready for your _personal tour_?"

XXXXXXXX

"You still here?" Flack asks Stella as he hovers in her doorway.

"It's the first night and I um...I just can't see myself going home to...damn it Don why the hell did Mac do this?"

"Stella..."

"No I know why but...I just need to vent. I'm sorry for snapping."

"You know it would make me feel better if Jessica was as worried. Trust me she's late right now and I'm about to send out a search party," a faint smile crosses his lips. "Want to have dinner with us?"

"I doubt I'd be very good company."

"We won't expect anything from you other than to eat. At least dinner?" Flack tries. "You know you get after Mac for not eating when he's stressed."

"What do you think he's doing right now?" Stella asks in soft misery.

"Probably getting used to whatever guy he's assigned to. I think Sinclair tried to find him a guy that might be..."

"Less harmless?" She arches a skeptical brow.

"Stella, Mac is no stranger to tense situations."

"He's in there alone and unarmed!" She growls. "He could be shacked up with President Obama and I'd still worry."

"So would Obama," Flack cracks and Stella's face finally softens.

"I know Mac can take care of himself but...damn I just can't get past the image of...well of what Mac told me about Drew."

"He told you?" Flack inquires, his brain now wondering if Mac actually told her about Drew being assaulted.

_'Did you tell Stella that Drew was raped first?'_

_'No, I just couldn't. If she knew that was something that I might have to well face...she'd worry more than I know she will. You give me your word you won't tell her.'_

_'But Mac...'_

_'Don, that__ is not going to happen. I'm not as trusting as Drew and know what to look out for.'_

"He told me," she huffs; her mind only showing images of Drew's hanging body being found, not what he physically had to endure before his life was cut short.

"Mac is going to be fine. He knows his target; this Wicks fellow and what to expect. But it won't come to that. He just wants to find the guy who said he witnessed everything; talk to him more and then get him on his side before he sets his trap. Once that trap is set..."

"And if something goes wrong?" Stella quickly interrupts.

"It um..." Flack pauses; his mind also hearing the same calls for help from Drew Bedford as his life was destroyed. "It won't come to that," Flack shakes his head; forcing the images from his mind. "Mac is going to be fine," he states once again; hoping to drill it into both their heads that Mac would come out of this unscathed.

"I keep hearing his voice, asking me if I'm okay with this. I lied to him Don...I told him I was okay with all this and...damn it I lied."

"I'm sure he knew; just like if the situation was in the reverse he would also tell you the same thing. You said that to keep him strong and I'm sure it helped; at least a little."

"I miss him. I know that's silly sentimentality considering he's only been gone since this morning but I miss him."

"Love isn't silly."

"You sound like Jessica," Stella states with a weak smile.

"Just don't tell her I said that; I'd never hear the end of it," Flack smirks as his phone rings. "Speaking of...so you want to come with us for dinner?"

Stella looks at a picture of her and Mac, her mind racing and her heart aching in her chest. She finally looks up at Flack who is on with Jessica, nods in agreement and then listens as her friends makes arrangements to meet Jessica at Sullivan's.

_Mac, _her mind calls. _I beg you are okay._

XXXXXXXX

Thankful that most of the inmates were winding down for the night and feeling his anxiety continuing to build as he slowly walks beside Maurice Wicks; his cuffed wrists dangling in front, Mac is glad he doesn't have to endure too many verbal comments about his vulnerable condition. The tour for the most part is routine, Mac's eyes darting around, taking in the layout of the every room before him; his vision now offering his brain an outlook from the reverse angle.

"Time to go someplace special," Wicks mentions and Mac's attention is quickly snapped to the fore.

"Where?"

"You'll see."

"I um..."

"Mark, that wasn't a request."

"Right."

Wicks leads Mac through a small passageway; his eyes looking around, wondering if he did need help who would come to his side. With his wrists cuffed in front he as a better fighting chance but with each step he takes, his brain is once again filled with serious doubts as to what he's doing in this situation. He keeps telling himself he'll never suffer the same fate as Drew or the others; or that he'll be able to get out just in time. However, as they reach the library Mac's defenses go into high gear again as they stand before the darkened room; he wonders if he will end up a victim instead of just lucky. What if there is someone else in there? This guy I can take one on one; what about two or three? What if I'm cuffed? What if...

Mac tries to swallow his anxiety, looking over at Wicks with raised brows.

"I like to come here at night and think sometimes; you know away from the noise," Wicks mentions as he pulls out his swipe card; places it on the security block that finally buzzes and lets them in. Mac didn't mind the other places as they were open; each having a few curious onlookers hanging around; but this place was dark and deserted and he was alone and handcuffed. Alone and cuffed with a man that already has an evil history and is already looking at him as his next victim.

"You ever like to meditate Mark?" Wicks inquires as his fingers try to wrap themselves around Mac's thick bicep; pulling him forward into the darkened room; Mac's body tensing and slightly pulling back.

"Aww come on now Mark, you not afraid of the dark are ya?" Wicks laughs as his hand leaves Mac's arm and slaps him heartily on the back. "But I did ask you a question?" He demands with a firmer tone.

"As of late I have been doing a lot of thinking."

"What about?"

"About the short end of the sick I am suddenly on being in this damn place," Mac gently scowls as he puts some distance between him and the large man on his right; his eyes fixed on the chair in front of him; anything to keep his gaze from catching the dark haunting glare of the man beside him; watching his every move intently.

"Do you feel helpless being in here?" Wicks asks directly.

_'Remember son, you are never weak. Never helpless,' his father's voice starts to ring loud in his head. 'You are a marine and in control at all times!'_

"What the hell do you think? Why am I really here? I mean in this room?"

"Hey calm down," Wicks fingers come to rest on his shoulder.

Resisting the urge to buck this hand off his body; Mac's brain reminds himself that he needs to at least seem like this is the guy he wants to befriend, Maurice Wicks not the only one setting a trap. So instead of offering an angry curse; he allows his body to sigh and pastes on a small frown.

"Just angry," Mac finally admits.

"Well if you ever want to talk about it. I mean don't get me wrong and all, Ron, your roomie is a fine fellow but not exactly the kind you want to befriend," Wicks continues. "Can't really trust him."

"Why?"

"Trust me Mark, he's not your friend."

_'Mac, part of this guy's MO is to isolate certain prisoners; probably telling them they can't trust anyone or talk to anyone outside of him,' Flack had warned._

"Thanks for the heads up...it's um...well it's nice to know I can talk to someone about..."

"Anything Mark," Wicks moves in a bit closer; Mac's body tensing once again. "You can talk to me about anything."

"But if I'm seen well you knowbeing _friendly _and all, won't that um...put a target on me?"

"I'll watch out for ya Mark, I'll make sure none of those guys bothers you. Trust me, I'm your only friend in here; the only one that wants to help you. The only one you can _trust._"

Those words alone made Mac's blood instantly boil; his willpower put to the test in holding him back from punching Maurice Wicks right in the face. _Only one you can trust..._

_JUST LIKE DREW TRUSTED YOU, YOU BASTARD_? Mac's mind screams as he hears Drew begging him for help.

"You know Mark," Wicks starts as he reaches down and grasps the metal links between Mac's wrists and gives them a tug forward, making Mac almost lose his footing and crash into the waiting frame of Maurice Wicks. Mac quickly counters and is able to keep a few feet between them; his wrists however, still held firmly in Wicks grasp. Mac's eyes watch Wicks pull out the handcuff key and hold it up. "I take trust very seriously."

Mac feels his stomach tighten at the bold lie, wanting more than anything to slam both fists into his face and yell at him for offering such a sacred word but treating it as if it was nothing; his word was nothing. _Trust, _Mac's brain chides, you don't know the meaning of the word. But as he eyes the key he knows he want his freedom so bites his tongue, telling himself that when this is over, he'll make sure Wicks knows his lies were just that.

"Let me see those."

With a whispered sigh of relief, Mac waits as Wicks undoes the cuffs, merely allowing Mac's slightly chaffed wrists to fall at his sides.

"I value trust also," Mac whispers.

"Good to hear. Like your glasses Mark, they give you a serious kinda look."

"They only serve as nickname fodder."

"Ah right Aaron called ya four eyes; he's that way with everyone," Wicks mentions, referring to the other man Mac had to face when he first arrived.

"Well time to go."

Mac gently rubs them as Wicks turns and heads back toward the entrance; Mac slowly following. He tells himself not to call Wicks on his lies; that that is the line he probably handed not only Drew and Larry but also the five others. Maybe he assaulted them more than once and at first Wicks threatened them if they told anyone? Maybe he said he cared for them or...or whatever...

"You don't talk much do ya Mark?" Wicks notes as they head down the long hallway back toward his cell.

_Would rather kick your ass you piece of garbage, _Mac's mind offers as silent retort. Sadly he knows that he can't offer the things he wants to or he'll send Maurice Wicks in search of a new, unsuspecting target. So as much as it pains him to keep offering lies to a man he is growing to hate as each second passes; he knows he has to play it smart and end this properly.

"Not used to talking to um...well to anyone really," Mac tries with a slight frown. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Wicks pats Mac on the back. "Just don't be afraid to talk to me okay? Even if the guys are bugging you and such, you come and tell me, I'll deal with it."

"Really do appreciate your concern and looking out for me."

"Ah that's what friends do right? Look out for each other."

"Not sure how I can look out for you."

"We'll work on what you can help me with later Mark."

"Don't you care what I've done?"

"Trust me, none of us are lily white if you know what I mean?" Wicks laughs as they reach his cell. "Hope the cuffs didn't freak ya out."

"Wasn't sure what to expect."

"Helps me maintain control; always careful what others see, if you know what I mean."

"Okay."

"Sleep well Mark," Wicks offers as he nods to the guard at the end of the hall who pushes a button that allows Mac's cell door to open and then close behind him; the sound of the door locking making Mac slightly shudder.

Mac watches him go and then turns back to face Ron with a quizzical look. "What?" Mac finally asks after a few minutes of the older man studying him.

"Just be careful around him."

"Why? He doesn't seem so bad."

"Where'd he take ya?"

"Various places."

"Library?"

"Yah why?"

"Just be careful around him. If he assigns you to library duty, you make sure you don't go in there alone or after hours."

"What are you not telling me?" Mac gently presses. Does he know something also? Could I have another ally in here?

"It's your first day, you'll learn pretty fast."

"Please tell me. What is wrong with him?" Mac pries.

"Nothing, depending on what you're like."

"Huh?" Mac tries to play dumb, hoping to draw out the conversation a little bit longer. "Why the cuffs?"

"He likes then. Do you?"

"No, but..."

"KNIGHT! TRAVERS!!" A loud angry voice shouts. "LIGHTS OUT!"

"Ron..."

"We'll talk more tomorrow. Get some sleep young man; you're going to need it."

"But..."

"Trust me they'll come down hard if you aren't listening," Ron frowns as he turns off the small bedside lamp. "And I mean solitary."

Knowing he has no choice but to comply, Mac offers a small grunt in acceptance and climbs to the small ladder and then allows his body; already spent of its nervous adrenaline to slump onto the firm mattress. His head slightly pounding; his stomach too nervous to eat earlier and his heart beating painfully; his arms missing the feel of his wife's soft warm body pressed up against his.

_Stella,_ his mind calls to her. _I love you._

XXXXXXXX

"So I am going to dye my hair green tomorrow," Jessica mentions off handedly; garnering only a slight snicker from one member of the table; the other's thoughts and attention nestled on a small island in the middle of the East River.

"Stella?"

"Huh? Oh sorry," Stella states absently as she looks at her friend with a slight frown. "I can't think about anything else; my mind is wondering what Mac is enduring right now."

"He'll probably get as much sleep as you," Flack states softly as he looks at Stella in concern.

"You can't expect me to sleep peacefully knowing my husband is..." her voice breaks.

Jessica's fingers slowly snake toward her; offering them a warm squeeze of comfort. "Mac is strong."

"And alone," Stella mentions weakly.

"Sinclair is keeping eye on the footage; any sign of trouble then he'll call in the guard from the other cellblock and Mac will be out of there."

"And will anyone know?" Stella asks in fear.

"If his cover is blown, he'll be pulled. He's going to be fine," Flack states with a sight frown.

"I know he'll be fine, I just miss him."

"Want to stay with us? I have the spare bedroom that..." Jessica offers.

"No I'll be okay," Stella tries to assure them, my mind begging her not to go home alone; knowing that the silence will do more harm than good.

"Stella..." Jessica tries.

Stella looks at her friend with a tight lipped smile before uttering another lie, "I'm going to be fine."

Realizing that arguing will do no good both Flack and Jessica exchange a nod of understanding as they finish up with their bill and then make positive small talk with Stella about the four of them getting together for dinner after all this was over; wanting to send her away for the night with happy thoughts instead of dwelling on the new horrors that Mac was probably facing.

Stella offers her friends a wave goodnight before the she turns and slowly heads toward the front of their apartment building. She pauses, her mind flashing her images of the first day that Mac brought her to the front door of their new home.

_'Mac, what are we doing here?'_

_'We live here Stella.'_

_'What?' She had asked with a growing smile. 'But the money didn't clear.'_

_'It did yesterday. I wanted it to be a surprise so I took care of the rest of it myself. I hope you are not mad.'_

_'Yes I'm going to punish you as soon as we are in the bedroom.'_

_'I'm looking forward to that. So you are not mad right?'_

_'Mac, I love this place and I love you,' she had whispered as her arms wrapped around her neck, their lips locked. _

"Mac..." she whispers as her eyes gently mist, the image quickly fading. Stella hears a horn honking a few feet behind and pulling herself from her morbid stupor, she heads inside; wanting to shield herself away from the rest of the prying eyes of unknown onlookers.

"I'm home," she calls out in misery; only suffocating silence greeting her in return. She slowly closes the door and leans against it; already the pain of knowing that he's not just working late, that he's in a dangerous place forces her body to wilt further against the door; slightly sagging.

_'We have never been separated for longer than a day since we've been married Mac. The only exception was when your mother was sick and I had to come the next day. This um...this will be hard.'_

_'My father always said the first night was the hardest.'_

_'Was he right? The nights after that were better?'_

_'Any night without you in my arms will be unbearable,' he had whispered as he held her close on their last night together. _

With a hard swallow, Stella forces herself to finally remove herself from the spot planted in front of the door, slowly removing her jacket, aimlessly hanging it up in the small hall closet and then trying to keep herself busy by tidying up a few things that were left over from the early morning panic session; trying to get Mac out the door to the holding cell before it was discovered where he really came from.

She heads into the bathroom, slowly shedding her clothing as she turns on the hot water; hoping the soothing hot streams will at lease somewhat ease her tension. But as she closes her eyes she remembers another discussion she had with Mac; one that makes her stomach tighten.

_'How are you um...going to handle...you know showering and stuff. I think it's all open and...'_

_'Well it'll probably be the same as in the marines.'_

_'Mac, this is prison, I know you are not that naive.'_

_'Just trying to ease your worries Stella.'_

_'Will be hard to imagine someone else enjoying what I get to,' she had told him; his face automatically breaking into a wide grin._

_'Don't worry only you'll get to enjoy that.'_

"Mac...god I miss you," Stella lightly whimpers as she finishes her showers and then slowly dries herself off; taking as much time as possible; not wanting to go into their bedroom alone. But knowing she can't spend the night in the bathroom, she finishes drying, wraps her robe around her warm body and then heads into the hallway; her steps feeling like lead as she nears their bedroom.

Her heart rate increases as she finally forces herself to take a step inside their empty bedroom. Her lips form into a tight line as she absently wanders over to her closet and numbly pulls the doors open, going through the motions of removing her robe and dressing for bed. When she's finished she slowly turns around to face the empty King size bed; the one luxury they both insisted on purchasing as soon as the I Do's were finished.

"I can do this," she tells herself in a firm tone as she heads toward her side of the bed, pulling back the covers and then very carefully pushing herself between the covers. But as soon as she lays her head down and the faint scent of her beloved husband starts to fill her senses, her eyes water and her heart aches for him once more.

She pulls his pillow to her chest; clutching it tightly, closing her eyes and allowing the scent to conjure up a happy image of Mac in the past few days; an image she hopes will carry her through the night.

_Mac, _her mind calls to him._ I love you_.

But much like the night before he left; she's awake, her mind racing with a million different questions. What was his admittance like? Did he meet the man he's supposed to be targeting? What's his cellmate like? Did he make any enemies? Is he thinking of me?

And as she finally forces her mind think back to their wedding; her mind starts to drift into sleep but she still can't help but wonder how Mac's first night will be; much less the next day ahead.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so still liking it? Want to see more? What happens to Mac? What else Stella finds out? How Mac's plan will play out? Please let me know and thanks.

**PS: **Pandora's Box updates next.


	3. The Longest Day

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 3 -The Longest Day**

* * *

As he had suspected, Mac's mind was awake most of the night. It wasn't the sounds for his cellmate below; who true to his words didn't snore, but did offer the occasional curse, his mind having lots of angry memories to choose from. Nor was it from the constant whispered chatter from guards as they roamed the halls, the screams of mentally tormented prisoners in other areas that seemed to waft into their area or the certain alarms and buzzers from the world outside.

His mind was focused on Maurice Wicks. He lets his mind dwell on the handcuffs. _I like them..._Maurice had offered and then threw the trust line at Mac; as if a grim foreshadowing of what he would be allowing himself to endure. Probably would cuff his new 'friends' each time right from the start, thus getting his new victim used to the idea of wearing them as they would go for a walk. Nothing would happen for awhile and that would build the trust.

Then one night the walk would be to a place they were familiar with; obviously the library but instead of just a chat...Mac's mind comes to an abrupt halt. _They'd be assaulted. _They would probably be too afraid to fight back, but wouldn't they try? Would they just allow themselves to be tied down and raped? Surely they'd be restrained? Wouldn't they try to stop? Was it just Wicks? Was there another man involved? Those thoughts perplexed him because he thought for sure no man would ever be that afraid; would be that weak. Would just give in. _I never will be that weak, _he assures himself. _Never._ I'll never have to endure that either.

He slowly rolls onto his side, his brow lightly dotted with beads of sweat and his frame warmer than normal. He tells himself that he needs at least a few hours, forces his mind to push Maurice Wicks to the back and Stella to the front and the next time he opens his eyes, the morning bells are sounding and it's time to get his week started.

"How'd ya sleep?" Ron asks as Mac slowly climbs down to the floor.

"Didn't," Mac frowns; Ron offering him a knowing nod.

"So um what happens now?" Mac inquires; wanting once again to prove that he's new to the system instead of someone with years of professional knowledge of the prison system and what goes on. As they slowly head out of their prison cell, Mac only half heartedly listens to Ron's explanation as his eyes are searching for his next target, the bald man with the Celtic tattoo on the back of his neck.

He enters the main eating area and spies Maurice Wicks watching him the second he arrives and wonders if he's always under close scrutiny if he'll have an opportunity to talk to the tattooed man; the only man that knows what Wicks has done. He heads for the breakfast line; his nervousness starting to build. However, his heart explodes when he hears a man asking him the dreaded question.

"Hey buddy..." Mac feels a man poking him in the back. "Don't I know you?"

Mac quickly swallows and prays that he'll be able to talk his way out of whatever situation this might present; one that will hopefully end with his cover still in tact. He turns around and is thankful that it's not someone he arrested personally. However, the man does look familiar and now is searching brain for the right identification.

"Uh no," Mac mumbles as he turns around.

"Kinda rude ain't ya?"

"Leave him alone," Ron growls.

"He your bitch boy?" The man sneers at Ron; referring to the possession status that Ron might possess over Mac. And as much as hates the idea that comes with that kind of connotation is happy when Ron instantly springs to his defense.

"And if he is? You got a problem with that?"

"Fine whatever," the man retorts as he backs down.

Mac quickly realizes that Ron has done a good job of garnering some respect in this place and knows it's something he can't or won't take for granted; it could mean his life.

"Thanks," Mac mutters under his breath as he gathers up his breakfast items and then leads them over to a small table; being joined by two others.

"This is Dylan and Paul," Ron introduces. "Fellas this is Mark."

Mac nods a hello to each and then starts into his bland breakfast; his stomach instantly wishing he was back at home, that it was the weekend and he was being spoiled by a big batch of Stella's pancakes and bacon; fresh coffee and an early morning sexual romp to start the day off right. Now those thoughts seem so far away.

Breakfast finishes without note but as Mac is putting his tray aside for cleanup, Wicks approaches and his tension mounts once again.

"Come with me Travers," he states firmly; a different tone than the one offered the night before. Mac surmises that it's due to the people around him, but now his mind wonders how he'll get to the man with the tattoos.

"Sure."

"It's yes Sir," Wicks warns and Mac feels all eyes on him.

"Yes Sir," he offers in a quiet tone, trying to bite back his disdain. In the marines he had no problem addressing a commanding officer with the title '_Sir'_, however, they warranted it. The only thing he wants to offer Maurice Wicks is a good ass-kicking; certainly no respect. He looks back at Ron, who offers him only an expression of remorse and a shrug as he follows after Wicks with a sinking feeling starting to develop in the pit of his stomach.

"Today you get your work assignment Mark," Wicks starts; once again offering another facet of his personality, his tone softer and his body a bit closer. Wicks stops Mac in the hallway and looks at him closely; forcing Mac to once again lightly squirm in place.

"What um...what is it?"

"What is it Sir?" Wicks corrects.

"What is it Sir?" Mac bites back his grumble.

"I always have to maintain control Mark," Wicks addresses him, his fingers once again resting on Mac's shoulder. And while he would normally consider that a gesture of friendship; he knows that Wicks wants something more from him and so his body tenses involuntarily. "I won't hurtcha Mark."

"I know. Just um...well not used to..."

"Having someone who's concerned for you?"

"Right," Mac offers with a swallow.

"Just wanted you to know, you are special to me Mark and I will look out for you, but at times in front of the other inmates, I gotta appear in control. Trust Mark, know what that means to me."

"I understand."

"Good. Let's go."

Each time an appendage brushes Mac's frame, in any capacity, he feels his stomach tighten and his skin start to crawl; forcing him to pull back and put some space between him and the man he's hoping to bring down very soon.

"Which area will I be assigned to?"

"Library has an opening. You liked it there last night right?" Wicks questions.

"Was hoping for something a bit more physical."

"Ah yes worried about seeming wimpy to the other guys?"

"Especially being new and all," Mac huffs. "Wouldn't want them to think I can't you know...fight or defend myself."

"You'll only spend a few hours in here in the morning and evening."

"Evening?" Mac inquires, remembering Ron's words about working after hours alone.

"Got a problem with that?"

"No, course not," Mac states in haste.

"Good, keep it that way. But in between you'll have lots of chances at playtime and rest if you so desire; that includes workin' out in the gym. But trust me, once it gets around you're ex-army, you'll have no troubles. Looked up your file," Wicks finishes and Mac now wonders what all Sinclair put into that phony bio.

"And?"

"Real loner ain'tcha?"

"Never big on family or um..."

"Women?" Wicks asks with a grin and Mac's stomach tightens once again.

"Just prefer to be alone."

"And that is okay Mark, I understand. Am that way myself if you know what I mean," he winks and Mac looks at him with a blank stare. "It's okay if you don't want to admit it right now. But I'm your friend, right?"

Mac looks at him, his brain always analyzing what it's being fed by Maurice Wicks. Mac surmises that Wicks would tell each victim what _they wanted _to hear. He wasn't able to guess what lies Wicks fed each victim to gain their trust, but if he didn't know better and wasn't armed with the knowledge of what kind of man Maurice Wicks really was, he could find himself falling victim to the lies; telling himself he was alone, he wasn't cared about, and that this would be normal.

_Stella, give me strength, _his mind begs as he continues.

"Right, of course," Mac replies with a tight lipped smile; praying his lying faade would hold up and the man before him wasnt able to see past it.

"Good to hear," Wicks smiles as he leads Mac into the library. "Hey George, got a newbie for ya!"

"Excellent bring forth our latest victim!" A voice laughs from behind a stack of crates. Mac walks toward the other man and then stops, watching him with interest, his mind however, wondering how long he'd have to do his menial task and what this other fellow George was also all about? Was he the other accomplice? The tattooed man told Flack that there was always another man but that he liked to wear a mask, so his identity was also a mystery.

"You treat this one well, he's a friend," Wicks tells George with slight nod and Mac's feeling of doom starts to rise once again.

"Oh I'll take good care of him," Georg winks at Mac.

Thankfully Wicks takes his leave, telling Mac he'd see him in a couple of hours and then leaving Mac with George. But the library isn't empty, there are other inmates in different areas, reading various books and magazines so his feeling of being alone with another potential suspect isn't quite the ordeal he thought it would be. What he was really dreading was the end of the day.

"Alright let's put those muscles to good use. Pick that up and follow me," George directs. Mac picks up the crate of books; his mind instantly wondering how his wife is faring.

XXXXXXXX

"So did you sleep at all?" Flack asks Stella as he leans against the frame to her office.

"Not much, kept hearing Mac in my mind calling to me."

"He'll be fine Stella, he won't have to um...well to face what Drew did."

"He better not or else he'll be dead!" She lightly wails and Flack arches his brows in wonder.

"What do you mean?"

"The hanging Don. I mean if Mac is trying to trap a mob guy who arranges hangings then...damn I knew I should have argued more or something..."

"Is that all Mac told you about Drew."

"Why is there more?"

"Stella..."

"Don what are you not telling me?"

"I'm sure Mac just wanted to spare you the horrors of the suicide note."

"I know Drew was probably scared but...has the feed from his glasses revealed anything?"

Flack looks at her and instantly feels the conflict inside. If Mac didn't tell Stella about Drew being assaulted first, could he? Would she be even more resentful than she was now? She'd worry more for sure. _Damn it Mac! _Flack curses in his mind.

"Mac has made contact with one of the guys we think is responsible for um...well driving Drew to do what he did," Flack frowns.

"What are you not telling me?"

"Stella I'm just as on edge about this as you and..." his voice trails off just as his phone rings. "Sorry Stella, I gotta take this. I'll be back later."

Stella knows she cannot stop him and so only offers a nod and silent curse but makes a mental note to go and visit Sinclair later; wanting to at least watch some regular footage; her mind and heart aching to see her beloved husband at least once. She looks down at the new case file in her hand; with Mac on assignment, it's up to her to lead the team now and she knows that no matter what, Mac would expect her to keep performing as efficiently as he has come to expect from her over the past ten years; she wasn't about to let him down.

However, as she finally pushes herself from her office, Stella tells herself that Mac is fine and it's only his first day.

_'The first few days will probably be uneventful,' _he had tried to assure her. _'Probably get my working assignment and just hang out.'_

_'Hang out? Just don't let your guard down for one second.'_

_'Trust me Stella, that's the one thing I will not allow to happen. I am going to be fine.'_

She slowly walks past his office; her mind flashing images of his handsome face looking up as she nears; offering her one of his elusive professional smiles that always makes her heart skip a beat.

"Mac..." she whispers softly as the image fades, being quickly replaced with an empty chair.

_Will I be able to contact you at all?' _She had wondered.

_'I have to appear to be alone, no family, no friends, no um...'_

_'Concerned wife?'_

_'Sorry Stella.'_

The fact that she wasn't even able to hear his voice furthered the strain and anxiety. At least if she could hear him assure her that was okay; that he missed her and that he loved her very much. She knew all those things, she never doubted their love for each other; but telling herself and hearing him tell her wasn't the same. She needed him and she cursed each second he was in that place and they were alone.

"Stella," Lindsay calls to her as she enters the lab. And although Adam had created the glasses and created the feed source only Sinclair and Flack were allowed to see the footage, Sinclair changing the password as soon as it was created; both aware of the sensitive nature of Mac's assignment and wanting to spare the team any unnecessary gossip that any kind of undercover assignment, especially one of such a sensitive nature might garner.

"So we heard Mac was borrowed for an undercover assignment for a few days?"

"Could be a week," Stella sighs as she looks at the piece of evidence in Lindsay's hand.

"A week?" Lindsay inquires. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I will when Mac is back. What do you have?"

"Okay so..." Lindsay's voice trails off as she starts to explain to Stella what she needs help with. As much as Stella once again tries to force her mind to think on the case at hand, she can't help but wonder what her beloved husband is up to.

_Mac, I miss you._

XXXXXXXX

The few hours in the library did little to lessen Mac's anxiety and nervousness. Wicks would come in every half hour to 'check' on him; always chatting with George; but both of them watching him intently; their eyes always studying his every move; watching him flex, smiling at every grunt and taking delight every time he offers them a show of toned backside.

The last time Wicks came in he said it was lunch time and Mac was thankful that he'd be back with Ron and the rest of the inmates; it wasn't the best company but it offered him a small mental reprieve from feeling like he was on display for people with motives that should never come to birth in the mind of any sane male human being.

Is this how women feel when men watch them with dark intent? If so this whole ordeal would offer him a new sympathetic understanding; but at the time he just wasn't aware of the new understanding it would offer him. He reaches the eating area and spies Ron already at a table; sitting alone. He slowly heads through the line, keeping to himself and not wanting to make eye contact with anyone; not really confident that the dark rimmed glasses would be enough of a disguise against someone with a real grudge.

"So you smarter now?" Ron smirks as Mac sits down at the table with him.

"What are you not telling me? Yesterday you told me to be careful around...well certain people but you never told me why. What should I be careful of in here?"

"Well I guess that depends," Ron starts as he looks at Mac with a serious stare.

"On?"

"On how many friends you want."

"Damn it with the cryptic answers," Mac lightly growls; forcing Ron Knight's lips to offer him a slight chuckle.

"Down boy, I'm just sayin' you gotta watch your ass around here unless that ass is gonna be used for something other than sittin' on the john. You got what that means?"

"You um...you have proof or something?"

"I hear things."

"What things?"

"I'll give you a chance to settle in first."

"I'm settled. What things?" Mac presses.

"Depends, you like men or women?"

"What does that..."

"You like men you'll have no problem. You like women you got a problem."

"I'll be careful," Mac states with a frown. But just as he's about to offer another word, he looks up and watches just as a rather well built bald guy with a Celtic tattoo on the back of his neck sits down a few tables over. "Nice tat," Mac mumbles under his breath; hoping to get a reaction from Ron; it works.

"His bark is worse than his bite."

"What's he called?"

"Bart; short for Bartholomew. Bart O'Brien."

And just like Mac had suspected, in this area, as one of them; anyone was willing to let their guard down and offer him whatever he was looking for. So as not to draw attention to the fact that Bart is the man he's looking for, Mac starts to ask about others and then changes the subject; swapping army stories with Ron and gaining further insight into the life of a man that he now feels an odd kinship toward.

"So what do you do now?" Mac wonders as they slowly walk their trays back to the dish gurney; Mac's eyes watching Bart; noting that he heads toward the door that will lead outside. Ron says he's going to read and Mac takes his leave; slowly wandering toward the door that would lead outside.

But just before his fingers push down on the handle to open the door to go into the recreation yard; a hand yanks Mac back and spins him around. Mac instantly recognizes the man before him as the one who was trying to cause trouble in line earlier at breakfast.

"I know you," the man glares at Mac. "Take off them glasses."

"I can't see without them," Mac states gruffly.

"Contacts then!"

"I have shrapnel burns from being in the army. I can't wear them."

"I swear I know you!" He grumbles.

"I have a common face," Mac states as he tries to turn around.

"It'll come to me; I never forget a face!" The man snaps as Mac finally frees himself and then pushes his way into the recreational yard. His ever examining eyes take in the scene before him; some men playing basketball; some working with some of the outdoor weights; some keeping to themselves, either smoking or reading; others in small groups, including Bart, who Mac notices is talking to just one man.

Mac slowly makes his way over toward them; not wanting to appear to be singling them out, but knowing that he isn't in this place to just pass the time; he's on a mission and needs to get what he needs and fast. He offers them a nod as he sits down at the opposite end of the bench; pulling out a lighter, which of course does nothing more than to serve as something for his fingers to focus on.

"You got a new friend," Mac hears Bart tell him; prompting him to look up at Bart and then follow his gaze over to where Wicks is once again ensuring that Mac is the focus of his attention.

"He seems okay," Mac shrugs as Mac slowly slides over. "Is he not? I heard some of the guards in here can be pretty rough."

"You don't like rough? You a weakling or something?"

"Was in the army," Mac states firmly. Mac didn't expect Bart to fully open up to him on the first day but was thankful that he made some small talk about a few more marine tales before it was time to go back in. But as each minute trudges slowly past, his mind can't help but wonder what Stella is doing; it's just after lunch, did she eat? Alone? In her office or in his? One of the things he always delighted in was coming back to his office and he could tell by her lingering scent that she had sat in his chair and that always fueled naughty fantasies; something that usually prompted him to quickly reach for the nearest autopsy photos, praying his rising erection would quickly subside and he could finish the rest of the day until he was at home in privacy with his wife where he could act upon his sexual urges.

However as he hears someone call Bart's name; he's quickly pulled back to reality, Stella's image fading, being replaced by a dozen unfriendly men; ten he doesn't pay heed to; one he's trying to get to know better and one he's desperate to try to get away from.

"So anything else you want to share?" Mac asks in a low tone as he falls in step beside Bart.

"You are new here right?"

"Last night. Does it show?"

"Kinda."

"I just wanna keep my head down, serve my damn time and get the hell outta here. I don't want trouble. Is he trouble?"

"You got a girl on the outside or something?"

"No, it's just me, why?"

"Then you could have trouble. What's your work assignment?"

"Library."

"You like to read?"

"It's better than bathroom duty."

Mac watches Bart's body stiffen and notices that Wicks is now watching them intently. So as not to arouse any kind of undo suspicion; and not wanting Bart to be moved, Mac offers him a nod and then whispers he wants to talk to him later.

"Just watch your back around that guy," Bart offers before he turns and walks away.

Mac heads for the door, only to hear the door slam shut behind him; turning around to face Maurice Wicks, who is looking at him with a less than amused expression. Mac slightly gulps as he feels his tension starting to mount once more.

"Something you want to tell me Mark?" Wicks lightly demands.

XXXXXXXX

By the time late afternoon rolls around, Stella's mind has somewhat eased; thanks to the new case that has forced her mind to be occupied with work related details. However, her conversation with Flack still bothers her; as if he knew something else; something terrible about these cases that he wasn't sharing. But surely Mac would have told her if there was more; he knew how she had been affected by Drew.

She leans back in her chair and allows her mind to ponder that thought. Maybe Drew mentioned me in his suicide note? Maybe there was more that he confessed to Jimmy that Jimmy told Mac and won't tell me? Did Drew taunt Mac about me? Mac would have held back on that if he thought it would just strain things further or force her mind to boil with anger.

"Mac...what aren't you telling me?" She asks with a frown. She lets her eyes wander over toward the clock and frowns; still half the day to go and already she was dreading going home alone once again. She knows she cannot take liberties with her friend's hospitality, but the thought of eating alone holds no appeal to her.

She closes her eyes and tries to picture Mac in the prison yard, probably keeping to himself or making small talk with anyone who will share an affinity for anything military; Mac telling her about the phony bio that Sinclair had created for him. She pictures him in her mind, half naked and working out, building up a sweat and then looking at her to come to him and help work off the excess energy.

She can almost feel his strong hands on her body, gently sliding up her bare skin, his fingers smooth and his hands firm; gently caressing her breasts as he moves her into place so that he can make sexual penetration. Then just before she can call his name the first time...

"Stella?" Lindsay's soft voice quickly pulls her back from her fantasy, Mac's image fading and her core to instantly cool. "Sorry did you need another moment?"

"No I um...was just thinking about Mac."

"Kinda figured with that smile, since this case is pretty depressing," Lindsay quips as she hands Stella a printout. "Prints were on the bottle. Molly did it."

"Okay so break time over," Stella lightly huffs as she takes the paper and then looks back up at Lindsay. "Something else?"

"I know you will probably say no, but do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Just hate the thought of you going home alone every night."

"Trust me, it something I don't relish either. Thanks but, I know Mac has some files that need to be finished, so I am going to work as late as I can and then just go home and sleep."

"Okay but if you change your mind an extra place will be set."

Stella gives her team member a smile in return before she pushes herself from her chair and then slowly heads in search of Flack; an arrest warrant now on her mind.

"I love you Mac," she whispers as she heads into the belly of the building. "Never forget that."

XXXXXXXX

"Well thank you for telling me that Mark. When you entered the outdoor yard you looked kinda spooked," Wicks states as he slowly escorts Mac back to the library for his second shift.

When Wicks had first asked the question, Mac wasn't sure what he wanted so had to think of something fast. Since there had already been an incident in the eating area in the morning that Wicks had witnessed, he figured that was a safe scapegoat and he was right.

"I'm glad you told me Mark," Wicks fingers come to rest on his shoulder once again, giving it a gentle squeeze and forcing Mac's stomach to once again tighten. He had been taught from a small boy from his father, that outside himself and another relative, it wasn't proper for another man to touch him in an affectionate way; that was reserved only for his wife.

However, Mac knows that he has to play a role and once again bites down his rising hatred and offers a fake smile of relief.

"Well thanks for listening," Mac concludes as they reach the entrance to the library. Mac sees Ron inside and actually feels some semblance of relief whenever he sees the older man; as if it's his father watching out for him just in case.

"So how is George treating you?" Wicks asks just as Mac's fingers reach the door handle. Wicks fingers covers Mac's and gently pull them back, turning him to face him as he expects an answer.

Mac's fingers, when allowed back at his side, gently curl into a tight fist; his teeth clenched but his voice calm.

"A bit of a slave driver, but he's okay," Mac quips and Wicks twisted lips curl upward.

"He's one of us Mark, you'll like him also. So what kinda stuff to you like to do for fun?" Wicks suddenly asks, prompting Mac to look up in shock.

_Is this guy for real? _Mac's mind yells in misery. _Just leave me the hell alone already. _"In here?" Mac manages.

"Well you are not as limited as you might think. Think on that and I'll see you later."

"Sure," Mac offers with a slight shrug as he quickly pulls the door open and then enters the library in haste, not turning back but heading toward George to see what else he can do. He takes his assignment and then ambles over toward Ron.

"You behavin' young man?" Ron asks with a slight frown.

"Hard to get into trouble in a place like this," Mac replies as he puts back some books on the shelf beside Ron.

"Oh you'd be surprised what happens in a place like this."

"Such as?" Mac arches his brows in wonder; his mind now racing that Bart wasn't the only one to witness Wicks horrors. "If you know something why keep it to yourself?" Mac challenges.

"Keeps me alive," Ron states firmly.

And that was it, Ron probably had witnessed several incidents and then heard about what happened to the men afterward if they threatened to tell. Mac could only guess that Wicks didn't know that Ron knows about him or he'd be telling him to stay away even more. But if there was a chance that Ron was another witness and he had a reason to want to leave; then maybe he could offer him a deal, forget about Bart and he could exit this nightmare as soon as possible.

However, when he goes back to where Ron was sitting, he sees the older man is gone and his countenance drops. "Damn it," Mac curses under his breath, not lost on the man behind him.

"What's wrong Mark? Job to hard for ya?" George teases as he pats Mac on the back; once again coming too close and invading his personal space for longer than he would like.

"I um...it's nothing, just a small paper cut," Mac huffs as he heads over to another section to continue his task. By the time the end of his shift comes along, Mac feels his nervous anxiety starting to build; but it's not as bad as before. He now has a new mission, to see what else Ron knows and how far he'd be willing to take that information. A deal? A deal in exchange for early release? Mac could offer that if Ron had indeed witnessed Maurice Wicks forcibly assault prisoners who had said no. If it was mutual then it wouldn't stand, but he was sure that Drew wasn't going to consent and neither was Larry. On those two he needed testimony.

"So how was your first day Mark?" Wicks asks as he walks with Mac back to his cell.

"Okay so far."

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Not really no," Mac replies, his eyes kept straight ahead. As he walks down the hallway, his eyes dart around, taking in the angry sneers of the men watching; knowing inside that it's another tactic Maurice uses to isolate his intended victim. Wanting Mac to feel like everyone is against him and that Wicks is his only friend. That's how it must have felt with guys like Drew, already emotionally fragile, having little hope and wanting something solid to hold onto; Wicks offered them that. He lured them into his trap and then when he was ready, he pounced.

Mac reaches his cell and sees that Ron is not there and feels his countenance start to fall. Without another word to Wicks he slowly heads inside and slumps down onto the end of Ron's bunk; watching out of the corner of his eye Wicks hovering in place.

"It'll get better Mark. We'll go for a walk later," Wicks mentions as he turns and leaves. For the rest of the men, Mac had to wonder if that was to give them hope; for him it just forced his anxiety to skyrocket, wondering what Wicks had planned if anything.

Mac climbs up onto his bunk and closes his eyes; allowing his mind to dwell on Stella and to the night they spent making love before he had to go. His mind remembers his hands on his skin, soft and smooth; perfect to his touch. How her hair would tease his sizzling flesh as her body moved in time with his; woman on top always his favorite sexual position. Her back as it arched into his; her tongue as it teased his mouth and her words as they made him feel like he was the only person in her entire world. Her love gave him an unseen strength that sometimes amazed and always humbled him. He feels his member starting to harden the longer he dwells on his silent fantasy and if not for Ron's shuffling into the cell; his erection would have given his thoughts away for sure. Thankfully his member quickly subsides as he rolls onto his side, watching Ron sit down and look up at him.

"How'd your first day go?"

"Routine. Nothing really to be worried about. But earlier you kinda freaked me out. Can you tell me more about my new friend?"

"Just be careful where you go with him is all."

"I don't understand why you can't tell me, I swear to you right now that I won't tell anyone."

"I trusted the wrong man before," Ron states plainly.

"Who?"

"Enough with them damn questions already," Ron grumbles and Mac knows to back off; not wanting to piss off his most reliable information source. If Ron had told someone else then that raised the possibility of another person coming forward with testimony that could help put Maurice Wicks away for life. Mac quickly changes the subject onto something benign and the tension instantly drops.

Dinner was pretty much the same as breakfast, with nothing really happening of note, with one difference, the man who had caused Mac trouble in the morning was missing from the rest of the crowd, and with his red hair he wasn't hard to miss. Did Wicks get rid of him? Is that how high the stakes were now raised? He would find out soon enough.

After dinner Mac heads back to his cell as Ron lingers in the eating area with two other guys; Mac wanting to collect his thoughts before Wicks comes to collect him. As he nears, he feels is spine instantly tingle, the bars such a stark reminder that hope was never going to surface in a place like this and if not for the love of his wife and friends on the outside; and the knowledge that he could leave any time he wanted, he could easily see how despair could take over a weak mind.

Mac slumps down on the end of Ron's bed, his mind trying to focus on Stella, but his thoughts instantly broken but a clanging sound; he looks up to see Wicks slowly moving the set of handcuffs past the bars, the small hairs on the back of his neck instantly standing upright.

"Ready to go?"

"I suppose I am," Mac replies with another fake smile; something he fears will transfer back to his real life when he's finally able to leave this wretched place.

"You know the drill," Wicks states in a firm tone,

"Don't understand it."

"I gotta maintain control around here Mark. Do you need me to come in there and force them on you?" Wicks asks firmly; his mouth offering a twisted smile as if was daring Mac to offer some defiance.

_Yeah next time you will you bastard, _Mac's voice shouts inside his mind.

"Need me to get a little rough?" Wicks asks with a growing smile.

_I'll not give this guy any sort of thrill, _Mac's mind state firmly as he offers his wrists and allows himself to be begrudgingly subdued by the thick pieces of steel; Wicks offering a small snort of disappointment. _This is the last time I allow this, _Mac tells himself as Wicks looms closer.

"Are these...standard police issue?" Mac frowns as he looks at the heavy pieces of metal trapping his wrists.

"Nah I picked them up at a special store. Custom made, you like em?" Wicks asks eagerly.

"They are bit unnerving," Mac states in truth.

"You'll get used to em," Wicks pats him on the back, once again allowing his hand to linger a bit longer on Mac's strong shoulder; longer than he would like.

_No I won't. Tomorrow you'll see who's in control._

They head for the library mostly in silence; Wicks telling Mac more about the weekly routine here until Wicks swipes his card and then pulls Mac into the dimly lit area of the library.

"Here Mark, take a seat," Wicks pushes Mac into a nearby plush chair, pulling up one close and then sitting down facing him; Mac once again starting to squirm as the man before him starts to examine him once again.

"So you notice anything different at dinner?" Wicks wonders as he leans in closer, his fingers now resting on Mac's knee.

Mac's body slightly flinches, which thankfully forces Wicks fingers to stay where they are.

"I won't hurt you Mark."

"I know."

"But I do expect an answer."

"My annoying friend wasn't there," Mac states in truth. He knows that Wicks would know anyone in the army would know an enemy and after having even a small altercation would be on the lookout for him.

"That's right."

"What happened to him?"

"I took care of it," Wicks smiles as he leans in closer. Mac looks at him once again in suspicion. Was the man a plant? To make Wicks appear to be a man he could trust? Is that how it worked with the others? Someone came along and threatened them; _appearing _to want to cause trouble but were only there because maybe they owed the guard a favor and he called it in. Then when Wicks took the trouble maker away it would ensure in the victim's mind that Wicks was indeed their friend. _This guy is devious, _Mac's brain warns as Wicks speaks again.

"See I told you Mark, I look out for my friends."

"Right thanks. But something in your voice tells me that isn't all?"

"You are smart man Mark."

"So um...what else do you want from me?" Mac asks, his fingers tightly curled into nervous balls.

"I want you just to relax Mark," Wicks nods to Mac's fists. "I want you to relax and trust me and I want to make your stay here not quite so horrible as it can be for others."

"I would like that," Mac states falsely.

"But what I do need from you right now is to not tell your roomie Ron about what I did. I mean if it got out that I was you know extending certain favors," Wicks states in a low tone as his fingers start to slowly creep up Mac's thigh, but stopping a few inches later, "then I could get in trouble. You wouldn't want that would you Mark?"

"After what you did, I almost seem indebted," Mac mumbles; as if reading the misery filled lines from a play labeled tragedy. He feels himself pulling back in his seat; trapped and no where to go.

"You just remember that," Wicks smiles and offers a sly wink; Mac's stomach wanting to give up the contents of his supper. But once again he sees the trap that Wicks has set. Probably picked out someone that was causing trouble for Drew, removed the trouble and then showed Drew that he was on his side; so when the time came to take what he wanted for payment, Drew would have to comply. Did he at first? Is that why things were strained with Jimmy? Maybe he hadn't planned to ever tell Jimmy? Would certainly add to the misery he must have been feeling at the end. If he had told someone they would then believe it possible when Drew was found dead. But unlike the others, Mac knows what is coming and so tells himself that he'll never have to experience what Drew fell folly to.

Wicks, despite being evil, was also very smart. This wasn't going to be easy afterall.

"So Mark, when do you want to have your shower?"

"What?" Mac's head snaps back up, his brain racing once again.

"Want to have one right now?"

"I um...had one this morning."

Wicks looks at Mac with a frown before his fingers latch onto the middle of the cuffs and before he can react, Wicks yanks Mac's frame forward, his face now just inches from his. Mac's stomach recoils as Wicks foul breath talks right at him.

"You know how much I value trust, right Mark?"

"Right."

"You didn't have a shower today Mark. Care to try again? This time without the lies?"

"I was nervous," Mac admits.

"Nervous? Well hell why didn't you say so in the first place?" Wicks smiles, his fingers still wrapped around the cold steel around Mac's wrists; his grasp still tight.

Resisting the urge to literally head butt the man before him, Mac simply shrugs.

"Well you come with me and I'll make sure you have nothing to be nervous about."

"What?"

"Trust me Mark."

And before Mac can offer another word of protest, Wicks yanks him back upright and then thankfully allows him to walk, while still cuffed but free of Wicks grasp to toward the men's showers. However, just before they reach the public areas, Wicks offers a slight detour and Mac finds himself in a private staff changing room; George waiting.

"I can just have one tomorrow."

"Nonsense Mark, you are here now, might as well have one in privacy right? No one else around but us."

Mac looks at Wicks and then tries to leave, Wicks blocking his path. Despite his wrists being cuffed he knows he's not going down without a fight if that is the intent here.

"Got some fight to him," George comments.

"Great ain't it? Relax Mark, George doesn't care if you use our shower," Wicks smiles as he locks the door so that Mac can't escape. "See now you have nothing to worry about? No one can get in."

_Or out, _Mac's mind yells in a panic; a small feeling of doom starting to encase him.

"And neither of you are going to tell on me?" Mac asks firmly; wanting to slightly play along but not wanting to give in too much.

"Neither of us," George promises as he walks a bit closer. "If you are a friend of Maury's then you are a friend of mine," he smiles broadly as his fingers rest on Mac's shoulder. "Nice."

"Thought so myself," Wicks grins as he pulls out a key. "Trust Mark."

He undoes the cuffs and then hands Mac a new set of clothes and then leads him toward the bathroom, allowing him to enter and then closing the door behind him.

Mac leans against the wall; taking a deep breath and trying to keep his supper down. He wants more than anything to hit something; anything to help alleviate all the anger and hatred that is simmering inside his tense frame. He quickly examines the shower stall he's in, knowing that it's probably got more than one watching hole for the viewing pleasure of the two men in the other room. But also knowing that he needs a shower, he has no choice so simply forces his mind to dwell on a happy thought; not him and Stella making love because he wouldn't want to show his arousal in anyway; but allows his mind to fix on the proposal.

He quickly strips, once again telling himself that the men outside cannot see anything, that he is safe and alone and to just concentrate on washing and then re-dressing as fast as he can. But as suspected once he's finished, he knocks on the door and is greeted by two broadly smiling men.

"Feels good don't it?" Wicks slaps him on the back as George goes to check the door.

"Sure, thanks," Mac offers a worried smile as his laundry is taken and tossed into a dark bag, sealed and then dropped into general laundry; no trace that an inmate has been sharing the personal space of the guards; something that is against the rules and regulations if ever found out.

"Well I hope you sleep well Mark," Wicks offers as he nods once again and Mac's cell door opens, allowing him to enter and then quickly shutting him inside. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," Mac offers Wicks and then turns to face Ron.

"Hairs wet," Ron nods. "Raining outside?"

"Just had a shower," Mac replies as he tries to step up into his bunk. Ron's fingers latch onto his arm and stops his actions; prompting Mac to lock expressions with the man beside him.

"He take you?"

"Yes."

"Someplace private?"

"What the hell do you know?" Mac lightly demands as he gently pushes Ron back. "You better me straight up instead of these damn head games."

Ron looks around and then gestures for Mac to follow, both of them hovering near the toilet behind the bunks.

"There was a guy in here a few months back that hung himself."

"What was his name?"

"Derek," Ron gives Mac the name of victim number five; the one before Drew and Larry. "I also heard of the other two more recent guys. Derek was the same as you. Loner, chip on his shoulder, ex-army. Wicks befriended him right away. Doin' favors for him and such. Showing him favors and giving him private use of certain areas."

"Favors?" Mac presses.

"Said he wanted to gain his _trust_. Trust my ass, he wanted to rape that boy."

"What?" Mac once again plays dumb, hoping for a bit more. "He told you that."

"Said at first that Wicks said it was a game. He'd come here, cuff him; take him for a walk to the same place just to talk; just like you Then he wanted his payment and said that if Derek told anyone he'd kill him. I guess it got too much and poor guy hung himself. I'm guessing that's what happened to the other two. But I heard that they didn't actually hang themselves, that they had help."

"Were you able to warn the other two?"

"Different cellblock," Ron offers and Mac's mind curses.

"Why haven't you told someone? You know make a deal or something? Can't you do that in here?"

"If you can't trust the guards, who do I trust? You? You are just the same as me."

"What if I..." Mac starts.

"KNIGHT! TRAVERS!" The night guard shouts to them. "Lights out!"

"Who did you hear from?" Mac presses.

"Ain't no matter, it's the truth."

"Ron, you can trust me."

"Just keep your mouth shut and stay away from him. You hear me? You do your time and then when you get out of this place don't look back. Tomorrow you go to the station guard and ask for a new work duty. Happens all the time. Just be carefu. I'm going to bed."

"Why help me?"

"Hard to explain," Ron frowns. "Just care I guess. Don't ask why."

"Ron..."

"Lights out Mark."

With that Ron turns and leaves, easing himself into his bunk and rolling onto his side; his back to Mac. Mac offers a slight curse and knows it's time to follow suit. However, with this new information he now has to work Ron a bit more; hoping to get him to agree to an exchange of freedom for his confession and this nightmare can be ended.

_Goodnight Stella, _Mac's mind offers as he lets out a heavy sigh, his mind settling a bit more at the knowledge that Ron could be the one to nail Maurice Wicks to the wall; that maybe he'll give in and sign a deal and in a few hours he might be back with Stella sooner than he thought. _This has to work._

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so I know this chapter was heavy Mac but had to show what his first day was like; building to what is to come. Think Mac is safe? Think he'll have a quick exit in a day like he thinks? Please let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you want more and thanks.

**PS: **Remember to check out chapter 1 of my other M story the SMexy ABC's of SMex and thanks again


	4. Dance with the Devil

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 4 - Dance with the Devil**

**A/N: **A special thank you to everyone for your kind comments, PM's, FB comments, Tweets and prayers. I truly do appreciate it after I broke my devastating news this weekend on FB and twitter or if you saw the note on my profile page. I hope to have my profile back to normal soon. I wasn't going to post this this week but since this chapter was written before the news I needed this distraction and so know it's angsty (so sorry for that) and hope you all still like it. Hope this chapter isn't too long.

* * *

Stella feels her head starting to fall forward; catching herself just before she does herself some damage and then leaning back in her chair; her eyes quickly snapping toward the clock on Mac's desk. With him gone; her mind and heart both finding comfort in being surrounded with his things if he wasn't at her side.

She had started a search into the first five men that had died, supposedly by hanging. But just as she had pulled the first one open; Danny had called her attention to something else and the investigating had to be put on hold. She tells herself that she'll just look at one before she goes to sleep, but as soon as she opens the file, she instantly wishes she hadn't.

"What the hell?"

_'Alleged claim of forced sexual assault against one of the guards.'_

Those were the words that stop her world cold; her fists to tighten.

"Sexually Assaulted? He was raped? Forcibly? Oh god..."

She leans back in the chair and feels her stomach tighten.

_'Stella, there is nothing to worry about,' __Mac had tried to assure._

"Damn it Mac! Why didn't you tell me? Was Drew also assaulted? Mac would have told me..." her voice trails off as she continues to scan the police report on the first victim of Maurice Wicks.

_'Isolated, withdrawn, mood swings, angry outbursts, fights, drinking...'_

"A true downward spiral. He was alone and..." her voice trails off as she closes her eyes. "And if he wasn't strong enough he would want to kill himself."

_'Stella help me!' _She hears Mac's voice calling to her and she quickly closes the file; telling herself she'll research the rest in the morning, praying this was the exception; that the mob insider had something he could exploit and perhaps Mac was mistaken, maybe this man really did have a reason to commit suicide.

"Mac...what have you done?" She groans, shaking her head as her eyes mist. "Mac is going to be just fine," she tells herself firmly. "He is strong and...well he's not alone. Mac will be fine," she tries to assure herself once more. "I have nothing to worry about and neither does Mac."

But as she slowly pushes herself up, hoping to go home, a small feeling inside her gut starts to take hold; seizing her soul and not allowing her to go further.

"Mac..." she whispers as her eyes water; feeling his absence the second night; this new information now playing with doubts and fears in her mind; creating new nightmares and horrors that even the strongest person would have a hard time getting past. She wanders over to the leather couch in Mac's office, grabs the blanket that he keeps nearby and wraps herself up in it; once again his faint scent starting to tempt her worried brain.

"Mac...oh god you have to be okay," she utters as her eyes mist once more. Tomorrow she would put aside whatever else she was doing and see if all the victims had the same thing in common and then she'd ask Flack if already knew.

"Goodnight Mac," she offers one last time before she tries to close her eyes and get some rest, it being well into the mid-night hour. But as her arms only have herself or the blanket to hold onto once again; she knows the night ahead is going to be as long and tormented as the one previous.

XXXXXXXX

Thankfully with a new mission in his mind, Mac's night wasn't as tormented as the night before. If Bart was indeed to back off then maybe he could sway Ron into giving a statement; surely he would want to get out and see his wife and family sooner than expected.

_'Soon Stella' _his mind offered. _'Soon I'll be with you once again.' _

He settles his mind on how good it's going to feel the first time of holding her naked body in his grasp and as he forces his mind to dwell on those thoughts, he actually able to get some sleep until the alarm sounds in the morning and it's time to face another trialsome day.

Mac knows that he has to work carefully on Ron but also not to take too much time as he wants to leave this place as fast as possible; his doubts starting to eat away at him each time he is in the company of Maurice Wicks. He peers over the edge of his bed and sees that Ron is awake and reading.

"I'll have to get a book today when I am at the library."

"You only read war stuff?" Ron inquires.

"Actually I don't mind human interest or adventure stuff," Mac replies as he climbs down and sits in the chair facing Ron.

"You like Clive Cusler?" Ron shows him the latest adventure novel.

"My wi..." he stops and then quickly recants. "My weekend reading used to consist of a few of those books and such but as of late mostly military journals," he finishes, hoping that Ron won't call him on the near slip of the word _wife, _still not sure if he can trust Ron Knight one hundred percent.

"Well it's always good to expand your horizons," Ron nods to Mac who only smiles in return.

"I need to finish something."

"Pardon?"

"Our discussion yesterday. I think you need to tell someone and I know a guy on the outside. Maybe he can help you."

"What kind of guy?"

"Just a guy who can talk to."

"I said I don't want any trouble. The last guy who told on Wicks ended up dead. I start to talk to anyone and he gets wind..."

"I give you my word," Mac tries again.

"I said yesterday that..." Ron starts just as the cell doors open and another guard starts to shout that it's breakfast.

"You two comin' or what?" Another cell mate asks just as Ron was about to say something more to Mac.

"Yeah we're comin'," Ron nods to Mac who knows he has to once again conceded this round and wait for another opportunity to talk to Ron about making a deal in exchange for his testimony on Maurice Wicks. Mac slowly heads into the hallway; always mindful of the hungry glances that are directed toward him, his uneasiness never subsiding. _I'm going to need a year supply stress release pills when I get out of here, _Mac's mind jokes as he heads toward the main eating area.

But he knows that he can't just rely on Ron's testimony, he also needs Bart's; two are always better than one. His eyes quickly scan for Bart but when he can't find him, his mind starts to panic that perhaps Wicks found out about him and also had him moved; his world starting to feel tighter and tighter around him.

Mac absently takes his meal, following after Ron and the other two inmates; his being once again feeling the watchful gaze of Maurice Wicks on him. Sure enough when he turns to see where Wicks is, he catches his eye and Wicks offers him a wink; to which Mac just returns a slight frown and then turns away; his stomach tight and uneasy once again.

He sits down and tries to show that he's not that involved with the men at the table, Ron included; not wanting to give Wicks another reason to rid him of another man that seemingly just wants to help. But during breakfast his mind wanders to Stella; a part of him with her at all times. What is she doing now? Did she sleep well last night? Did she even go home? And although it's only been two days that they have been apart; it's felt like a tormented eternity, just further cementing in his mind that undercover work was something he'll never do again.

"Hey Mark what do you think?" One of the other guys asks him, snapping his attention back to reality and forcing him to push Stella's image to the background for now, along with his own real identity of Mac Taylor; Mark Travers having to surface once more.

After breakfast he says goodbye to the group and heads toward the library, his mind in turmoil that Bart didn't show up for breakfast. However, he knows that after his morning assignment, he'll be able to go back into general population and hopes that he'll get another chance to find the tattooed informant and talk to him a bit further.

He rounds the corner to the long hallway down to the library and sees Wicks waiting for him; his stomach clenching once more.

"Morning Mark, you sleep well?"

"As well as can be expected in that small space," Mac replies, his eyes kept forward.

"You know if you ever want a better place to sleep..." Wicks starts as his fingers once again rest on Mac's shoulder.

Mac feels his body tense as he looks sideways at Wicks; who allows his fingers to remain a few more seconds before slowly pulling them back. "It'll get better," Mac tries to assure him.

"Well if you change your mind, there is a nice comfy bed in the back of the room that George and I share," Wicks suggests as Mac reaches the entrance to the library. "We love company."

"Thanks but I'll be fine."

But just before Mac could pull the door open, Wicks large hand slams it shut, forcing Mac's eyes to snap to attention instantly; looking at him in wonder.

"You just consider it, okay?"

"As I said before, I don'.t want any trouble."

"I think I've shown you that I can make your life pretty comfortable in here Mark," Wicks states firmly. "Not good to bite the hand that feeds you you know."

"I'll um...consider it," Mac lies; knowing inside that he has absolutely _no intention _of entering Wicks world or intimate circle any more than he has to right now.

"Just remember that," Wicks warns.

He tells himself that while Ron might not be the best of room mates, at least he's not looking at Mac with a dark purpose. That and the fact that Mac knows exactly what kind of intentions Wicks has. But he does have to wonder if Drew or Larry or any of the other five did give in and take Wicks up on his offer? Probably telling themselves that they'll just get a good nights rest instead of being presented with something that would be life and mind altering.

"See you later Mark," Wicks calls out as he turns and heads away, letting Mac head into the library to get his day started. But with Wicks latest warning he now wonders if this was such a smart idea. _If I can't get Ron to agree to a deal, I'll just pull myself tomorrow. _

With that firm thought in his head, he heads over to where George is, gets his task list and then gets to work. _Stella, I might be home sooner than I thought. _

XXXXXXXX

"Oh my god no..." Stella's voice gasps in horror as she starts to read the third file of the man that had supposedly committed suicide. "Brought forward a claim of sexual assault that..." her voice trails off as she continues; this file the same as the two previous. She gets to the end and feels herself slightly gasping for air.

"There is no mob connection," she growls. "It's all a damn cover up!"

"Is it safe to enter?" Flack asks softly.

"You tell me the truth Don, is Mac chasing a mob connection or a guilty guard?"

"What did you find?"

"The files to all these men. Although Drew's and Larry's aren't complete yet I'm guessing they too were the same. These men were all sexually assaulted by the same man; the same man I am guessing that also arranged or helped with their _supposed _suicides?"

"Stella..."

"Don't you dare lie to me Don. Was Drew also sexually assaulted?" Her voice rises to an angry level. Flack slowly closes the door, wanting to keep out any listening ears; already feeling prying eyes wanting to know the angry outburst between two friends.

"Yes he was," Flack admits and Stella's fist hits the top of Mac's desk, causing a small picture of her and Mac to clatter forward.

"Damn it! Why the hell didn't Mac tell me the truth?"

"Because he knew how you'd worry. Mac felt that..."

"That what? He owed Drew and these other criminal's his precious life? Oh god..." her voice falters as her eyes water; prompting her to quickly look away in misery. Flack comes and eases himself down into a chair right in front of her, his heart also heavy at seeing a friend whom he considers a sister in such mental anguish.

"There is no mob connection right?"

"Nothing serious that we are looking at," Flack admits as Stella turns to face him once more. "We have it on the word of an inmate that Maurice Wicks targets certain men; he um..."

"Rapes?"

"Assaults them and then when they threaten to tell someone..."

"He kills them and then tries to put it onto a mob associate?" Stella's voice growls. "For once I feel sorry for the mob. Damn it Don, why did Mac do this?"

"The inmate won't come forward and Mac knew that if we just arrested Maurice Wicks on suspicion that it'll just transfer the problem from one facility to another."

"Mac wants him stopped for good."

"We also think his brother, Judge Franklin Wicks is included in all this."

"Pardon? How?"

"Well Adam was able to hack into his personal email account, yeah don't ask how," Flack smirks. "But he found a large stash of male um...well porn and some of it included..."

"Pictures of the men that died?" Stella asks weakly.

"In very compromising situations. The problem is you can't see Wicks face in the pictures and the only man we see is wearing a mask. Mac is hoping to find the man with the tattoo, offer him a deal in exchange for his testimony..."

"All the while cozying up to the man that assaulted and murdered a childhood friend?" Stella retorts.

"Mac is not going to offer himself as a sacrificial lamb to this madman. But he needs to appear _friendly _in hopes of..."

"No please don't tell me...to set a trap?"

"Just to find out some information," Flack corrects.

"And Mac just thinks that this guy is going to tell him that he _assaulted _and then killed those other men?"

"Mac wants justice."

"Damn it!" Stella curses once more; adding another one in her ethnic tongue as she turns away from Don once again; her eyes wet and her stomach nauseous. "I want him out of there Don. I want him out of there right now."

"Mac had a plan that if he couldn't get what he needed in a few days he was going to pull himself. One phone call and he's out. That's the last thing he said before he went in. Mac is strong and a fighter. You know he'll never just give this guy anything he wants," Flack tries to reason.

"He's alone and unarmed," Stella whispers sadly. "I can't believe he didn't tell me all that."

"I'm sure he..."

"Don't justify for him Don; he should have told me and you know it. Does Sinclair know?"

"He knows to a degree, but he thinks it's a mob angle. That's what Mac sold him on," Flack tells her in truth. "Stella, I'm sorry you found out this way."

"Were you going to tell me?" She arches a curious brow.

"Mac was going to when he was out."

"I wish that was now. And how um...how do you know how he is? I mean he said he's not allowed to call and if he does or email, it's all monitored; even to a dummy address. He's trapped."

"Well Sinclair has seen some of the footage and I guess last night Mac found out that his cellmate also knows something. So if Mac can get this guy to fess and sign a deal then he could be out of there tomorrow. Stella this is going to work."

"Sounds too easy," she sighs as her fingers latch onto his wedding band and holding it firmly between her fingers. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Stella, nothing is going to go wrong," Flack tries to assure her; trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "So far Mac is just a regular guy in there minding his own business. He's going to be fine."

XXXXXXXX

By the time the lunch break came around, Mac's anger hadn't subsided. For the past few hours all he had been subjected to was comments from George and sometimes George and Wicks, and then just Wicks.

_'Nice ass Mark, now move it!'_

_'Need a hand with that Mark?'_

_'Bend down there and get it for me. Now!'_

And on it went so that by the time he headed into the lunch room, he was ready to explode; not having any kind of outlet to channel his anger. He had thought about hitting the gym, just to work off some steam, but knew if he got sweated up and needed a shower, he would just be subjected to another bout of mind games and so his frustration grew. Not seeing Ron or Bart, he gathers his meal and then heads for a table by himself; soon joined by a few others who just make mindless small talk.

After lunch he heads outside; once again hoping to find Bart but not seeing him anywhere. He finally spies Ron and makes his way toward him.

"How'd this mornin' go?"

"I am beginning to hate that place," Mac growls as he slumps down beside Ron, his narrowed eyes scanning for Bart. But when he doesn't see him he turns to Ron to inquire. "The man with the large Celtic tattoo. Where is he?"

"Heard a few got new homes this mornin'. Some of the guys were talkin'. He was probably one of them."

"Better?"

"Different faces; same situation," Ron shrugs. "Why you so interested?"

"I can help you but you have to trust me. I need your help to bring down Maurice Wicks."

"Why would I want to do that? I still have to be in this damn place un..."

"Because I know inside you have a sense of justice."

Ron looks at him in shock before a slow smile spreads his lips and then a low chuckle rumbles throughout his frame; his posture and expression telling Mac that he's crazy to even offer.

"Ron, I'm..." Mac starts only to be interrupted once more by another inmate walking up to them and sitting down beside Mac. Knowing that he cannot offer Ron anything with another, _untrusted _source around, he quickly clams up; telling himself that person could also be a plant for Maurice Wicks. The man starts to talk to them, Mac feeling his anxiety climbing upward once more until it's time for him to head back to the library; his anger still not expressed.

Mac works through his tasks, constantly watching the clock as it ticks slowly passed. Finally the hour arrives for him to leave; his plan to tell Ron the truth about him and offer a deal and then hope for the best. By now, he's figured that something has happened to Bart and Ron is his only hope of bringing down Maurice Wicks once and for all and for him to exit hell. But just as he's about to leave, Wicks arrives and blocks his path.

"All done Mark?"

"Yes Sir I am. Going to go back and do some reading," Mac offers as holds up a few action/adventure novels.

"Well I think you and I need to spend a bit more quality time together," Wicks suggests as he produces the custom made hand cuffs.

Not being in the mood for his stupid games, Mac tries to go around, ignoring the request. "Sorry, I'm just on the mood for that," Mac states firmly as he tries to shuffle past.

Wick's move quickly counters his; his large body blocking his path. "It wasn't a request Mark."

"Look I do appreciate all that you have done for me."

"Do you? Are you sure you _appreciat_e that? Because I haven't really felt that you have been very _appreciative_ of all I have done for you."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to listen when I give you an order," Wicks answers in a firm tone, pushing Mac's anger even further.

"I'm just not..." Mac insists once more as he tries to push past. Wicks counters his stance once more, this time roughly knocking the books from his hands. But just as Mac is about to offer something else, George appears and looks at them in wonder.

"What's going on here?"

"Nothing, I was just leaving," Mac tells him.

"You are not going anywhere Mark," Wicks growls as he lands a hand on Mac's shoulder and gives him a shove backwards. Mac quickly counters his step before he can stumble and then turns to face Wicks in defiance.

"I'm not a pushover either," Mac lightly warns; to which Wicks lips curl upward.

"Good. I like me a little rough action," Wicks smiles as he dangles the cuffs once more. "Either way you will be wearing these in a few minutes."

"I just want to go back to my cell to read," Mac huffs as he stands his ground.

"Change of plans Mark. Tonight you do as I tell you. YOU GOT THAT!" Wicks shouts as he shoves Mac backwards once more. Not prepared for the outright shove, Mac stumbles backward, grasping onto the wall and sagging to his knees. But he quickly pushes himself back up and pivots to the right just as Wicks was about to clasp a cuff on his right wrist.

"I don't want those!" Mac growls in return.

"Keep up the foreplay Mark, you know I like it."

"Listen I think you got the wrong idea about me," Mac insists as he tries to sidestep another advance; George keeping a watch but making sure that Mac can't escape.

"Oh no I have the right idea. The ideas you have given me."

"Pardon?"

"All this back and forth Mark, I know you like it. Now it's time to show your _appreciation _for all that I have done so far. And you better keep on showing your _appreciation _for all that I will continue to do for you. You got that?"

"No I do not and this is over and I'm leaving," Mac states firmly as he tries to move past him once more.

"You are not going anywhere," Wicks irritated voice growls as he lunges at Mac. Mac tries to once again sidestep his attack, but is quickly pounced on from behind by George who grabs his left arm and pulls him backward; prompting Mac to swing with his right fist and catch George in the stomach. George curses but doesn't let go, instead yanks Mac forward, forcing Mac to lose his footing, allowing Wicks to attach the cuff to Mac's right wrist. Then before Mac can offer another countermove, Wicks spins him around and traps the other wrist behind his back; leaving him defenseless.

Wicks offers a small hit to Mac's gut, as a fair warning that he's in charge and Mac better get the picture and fast. Wicks fingers wrap around Mac's arm and force him upright; their eyes locking. He backs Mac up again the wall, delighting in the feeling of his helpless victim, now struggling in his grasp. George helping holding him in place.

"Now you do what I SAY!" Wicks shouts.

"You have the wrong idea!"

"I see you are going to need a little more break in time," Wicks smiles as his fingers leave Mac's arm and travel to his waist. But just before they are allowed to touch his groin, Mac's knee instinctively comes up and catches Wicks in his own groin; forcing the large man to falter back in pain; George's hold broken by the scuffle.

"Ungrateful bastard!" Wicks shouts as he punches Mac in the gut once more.

Mac's body doubles forward in pain; but as he ponders Wicks words, _more break in time, _his mind now races in panic that he'll suffer the same fate and Drew and Larry and that his life too will be over. He tries to turn and run but is blocked by George who offers only an angry scowl in return.

"You know after all we did for you Mark."

"This wasn't what I had in mind," Mac states angrily as he tries to pull himself free from George's grasp.

"You were willing Mark, don't get cold feet now."

"You misread my intentions."

"No I didn't Mark. It was called foreplay and I liked it...for a time. Now I want more."

"You do this and I swear you'll be in trouble."

"You need some alone time Mark," Wicks smiles as he pats Mac on the cheek; before his hand moves lower. Mac's lips let out an angry yelp as Wicks fingers touch where they shouldn't, but thankfully before they linger Wicks radio goes off. "Damn it!" Wicks curses and Mac feels himself breathe a sigh of relief that he would be free from this mess very soon.

"It seems I now have something to attend. So I'm thinking a few hours in solitary might make you see the folly of your present actions; defying me is something you dont ever want TO DO!" Wicks shouts as he punches Mac in the gut once more.

"You can't just put me in there for no reason."

"Can and will!" Wicks snaps. "You'll not get any help here Mark. You are ALONE!" He shouts once more before he grabs Mac by the arm and starts to drag him toward the back of the library; where it's dark and isolated.

Mac tries to struggle free but soon George is on the other side, each of them having an arm through his elbow, dragging his struggling body, helping Wicks to deliver Mac to who knows where. There had been many reports, down through the years about prisoner abuse; stories about sadistic torture and mind games, but none were ever substantiated or if they were, took years in the court systems to actually prove. Thankful that he's not being delivered to a place where Wicks can assault him, he sees two guards ahead and the sign solitary confinement and his heart really starts to race.

"Hope you aren't afraid of the dark Mark," Wicks hisses in his ear. "I want you to think long and hard in there about your defiance and why, after all I have done for you so far, you would want to deny me what you naturally have to offer; something you know I want; and something I know you want."

"I don't...want that," Mac insists in anger to which Wicks just laughs; his demented brain not caring about Mac's insistent refusal. Mac jerks his head to the right but is only met with the hot laugher of George on the other side.

"We'll have our fun soon enough Mark," George whispers; forcing Mac's heart rate to skyrocket in torment. "Hope you like threesomes."

"This prisoner needs some alone time," Wicks nods to the guards. They open the door to the small dark tomb and before he can tell himself how to land; Mac finds himself stumbling towards the darkness, crashing to the floor on his side; his cuffed wrists unable to help his harsh landing.

"See you in a few hours Mark!" Wicks shouts as the door slams shut and Mac is engulfed in pitch black; his anxiety over the top. Mac furiously blinks his eyes, willing them to adjust; but knowing that relief won't come for several hours. Offering an angry grunt from the fall, Mac tries to get himself seated upright, wanting to find the back wall to lean against. He pushes past the throbbing in his chest as he inches his way along the floor, finally finding the back wall and leaning against it; closing his eyes and praying for the pounding in his head to subside.

He had taken all kinds of survival training; including being locked in a dark, confined space. But during the marine training he had prepared himself to face an enemy that wanted to take his life for belonging to a certain country or ideal; not facing a madman that wanted to ruin his life and dignity all in the name of a perverse pleasure. Wicks didn't really hurt him with the punch; it was designed to show him that Wicks was in control; much like being placed in this dark box, with his wrists cuffed behind his back. Solitary was used as a means of mental torture; forcing the prisoner to ponder the folly of his wayward actions in hopes of getting him to bend to whatever they would subject him to after he was released.

However, Mac knew that Wicks did it just to torment him because he had the power. Keeping him partially subdued, in the pitch black box, Wicks ensured that Mac's feeling of helplessness was heightened. But he didn't call out for help as he knew it would just land on deaf ears and he wasn't going to give the outside men any more pleasure than he fears he already did. But to a regular man, such as Drew, this kind of mental and emotional torment probably did a lot to hasten his breakdown, telling the unsuspecting man that there was no hope and this was his life; deal with it or die. Give in or else. In that case, he could understand why death would be even a contemplative action. If Wicks didn't help with their death he could see why they would want to just end it so as not to deal with the humiliation afterward.

_This bastard is going down, _Mac's mind grumbles in anger as he feels his fists tighten behind his back. But as he hears the soft laughter from the men outside; coupled with his name offered with various lewd remarks, he feels his convictions starting to wane and his fear to heighten. What if they just came in and assaulted him right now? He was defenseless; unable to stop them. I have to make my deal tomorrow and get the hell out of here; next time I might not be so lucky.

Surely Flack and Sinclair would see this latest footage and arrange to pull him; now that he knew he was a confirmed target. What he didn't know was, the feed wasn't being monitored all the time; that they were waiting for his phone call and key events, such as this, were missed. But without Ron's confirmed statement all this would be in vain; Wicks would still be free.

_'Have our fun soon enough Mark,'_ George's evil laughter and taunting words start to take hold in his brain, his heart racing with terror. I have to get out of here; I need to talk to Ron tonight and get out of here tomorrow, he tells himself. Mac quickly talks to the glasses; telling Flack and Sinclair he's in solitary but has a line on a witness and will confirm as soon as he's out; then he'll make his phone call and all this will be over. Then he leans his head back; not wanting to draw anymore attention to himself than he has alredy.

_Stella..._his mind calls out into the darkness in misery. _Help me._ He closes his eyes once more, telling himself this is all a bad dream and that very soon he'll wake up and the madness will be over.

XXXXXXXX

Stella's mind snaps to attention at the thought of hearing Mac's voice calling to her for help once more. She looks around and then finally notices Lindsay offer her a wondering glance.

"What is it?" Lindsay inquires.

"I um...it's nothing."

"You can tell me."

"I just heard Mac calling to me," she utters in a low tone.

"I'm sure he's just as lonely as you," Lindsay tries to assure her. "Can't imagine being stuck in an undercover assignment with a bunch of boring Feds would be much fun," Lindsay ponders; once again offering her the story the rest of the team had been fed, only her and Flack knowing the truth for sure.

"I guess you're right. I'm going to take this and check on any priors and I'll come back with my results," Stella states in haste as she hurries out of the room; her mind in a panic. _Mac you better be okay, _she silently laments as she heads for his office, her fists tight once again. Flack had told her that Mac's cellmate knew about the guard and what he had done and that Mac was probably working on a deal right now.

"Anything from Mac?" Stella asks Flack eagerly over the phone.

_"Nothing yet, but Sinclair is monitoring the footage and Mac knows to make the call to the number once he's got a confirmed deal.__ I think Mac will want to make sure he doesn't spook the guy," Flack ponders. "He'll get what he needs."_

"And Mac is okay right now? What's he doing?" Stella asks in soft misery; once again hating to sound like the overly concerned wife. "Please Don, just humor me."

_"Sinclair said he was put into solitary."_

"Don! What the hell?"

_"He's okay, just a bit roughed up. The footage is dark but Mac said that he is working on the guy and that he'll confirm in a few hours," Flack tells her with a heavy sigh. _

"And the man that Mac um...well Wicks has he..."

_"Yeah he's threatened Mac but so far that was it. Stella, Mac is going to be fine. He'll get his statement from Ron tomorrow and then he'll be free. We just need to give him a bit more time."_

"Time!" Stella snaps and then calms down. "Sorry. Just call me as soon as you hear anything else."

_"Are you getting any work done?"_

"What do you think?" She huffs.

_"Well why not go and see if Jessica needs help; she'll take your mind off your worry."_

"Don, does um...does Jessica know about any of this?"

_"Only that Mac is going undercover for the FBI the same as the rest of the team."_

"Thanks," Stella resigns as she hangs up; the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach refusing to subside. "Mac...I love you and I miss you. I just pray you are okay. I know you are strong but...damn it why didn't you tell me!"

XXXXXXXX

Mac wasn't sure how long he had been kept in the dark room; his mind in a constant state of panic and misery. He had tried to shift to a better position a few times, but with the cuffs on the tightest setting, biting his skin each time he moved, he had no choice but to remain in place, forced to think about his miserable confinement. He finally hears footsteps nearing, feels his heart rate starting to soar once more as the door is pulled open and he squints as two large figures slowly enter the room and loom over him with angry expressions. Thankfully neither are Wicks or George.

_'I'm a cop!' _He wants to yell. _You can't treat me like this!_

"I am going to take those cuffs off, you so much as flinch in my direction and I'll force you sleep like this all night on this floor. You got me?" He demands in anger. Not wanting anything other than to escape his present misery, Mac offers an angry nod but is thankful when they help him stand up. His legs are still somewhat shaky but won't complain as the cuffs are finally removed and he's able to bring his tired arms in front and slowly rub some feeling back into his chaffed wrists. But before he can take a step toward freedom, a large hand is placed on his chest and more gruff words are spoken.

"Wicks sends a bedtime message. You think about what you did today and keep your mouth shut and you'll be just fine. You tell anyone; including your cellmate and you'll end up in solitary for the rest of your stay; and trust me he has pull enough to make it happen."

Mac nods in agreement before he's escorted out of the black hole and back to his cell; where Ron is waiting with a worried expression.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I was put into solitary," Mac holds out his chaffed wrists.

He looks at Ron and knows he's out of time; the next time Wicks he knows won't be busy and if he's not removed by Sinclair, his life really will be ruined forever. That's something he'd rather die than face - ever. He takes a deep breath and then blows his cover to the one man he prays will want to do the right thing.

"You have to help me, Maurice Wicks is a madman, determined to ruin not just my life but anyone else he wants to. I thought I could trick him into...well something but after tonight I know that if he has his way again, I'm finished."

"What are you saying Mark?"

"You told me that you saw Maurice Wicks sexually assault several inmates here; those inmates who then showed up dead and you heard he helped them commit suicide which is murde. Is that true or not?"

"It is."

"Then I can help you."

"Mark..."

"Look I am running out of time. My real name is Mac Taylor and I am an undercover NYPD officer and I'm going to expose and then arrest Maurice Wicks. I can offer you a deal in return for your testimony against Wicks; your eyewitness account on paper; you get the witness protection with your wife and I get my arrest."

"You did all this just to expose one sick bastard?" Ron looks at Mac in shock. "You're a damn fool boy."

"Will you help me?"

"KNIGHT! TRAVERS!" The night guard shouts, indicating that it was time to turn off the small inner lights and get to sleep.

"I need to think about it."

"Ron..."

"And if it gets me killed? I already faced death once."

"Ron, I will guarantee your safety. Please?"

"Goodnight young man."

Mac offers a curse before he knows he has no choice but to comply. However, he saw the look of remorse in his eyes when he came back from solitary and how the older man's eyes had examined him and feels in his mind and heart that Ron is going to do the right thing. In the morning he would ask another guard for his phone call; alert Sinclair and Flack, make the deal and be home in time to have dinner with his beloved wife.

However the morning didn't go as planned, for as soon as they got up, another inmate was already in the cell, talking to Ron in a hushed tone before ushering him toward the entrance. Panic instantly seizes Mac as he thinks that his last chance at bringing down Maurice Wicks is being taken away.

"Ron..." Mac blurts out as he stumbles to the floor, nearly tripping on the bottom rung of the ladder.

Ron faces him with a knowing glance before he leans in closer. "I'll do it; talk to you later. And stay away from the bottle," Ron states firmly as he pulls back; the man waiting for the older man offering Mac a snicker. However, Mac doesn't care if he endures one more false insult; he has his man and now just needs to make a phone call, freedom a few hours away.

But as he heads into the eating area, Mac knows that he still has one hurdle before him; his phone call. But who can he ask that he can trust? Anyone? He slowly makes his way toward one of the waiting guards, praying for his nerves to calm a little.

"I need to make a phone call," Mac mentions to one of the guards.

"I'll get someone to escort you," the guard tells Mac; Mac offering a nod in compliance. He watches the guard disappear through a door but a few minutes later feels is world starting to get smaller as Maurice Wicks walks up to him with a smile on his face.

"Phone call huh?" Wicks mentions. "Come with me."

"I'd rather..." Mac tries to protest.

"Mark, I have no hesitation at all about cuffing and gagging you right here as an example to everyone else. You want to live with that for the rest of your stay here?"

"I just want to be left alone," Mac protests in a soft tone.

"Do you want yer damn call or not?" Wicks hisses.

"I do."

"Do what?"

"I do Sir," Mac grumbles in resignation.

"Don't forget the Sir," Wicks slaps Mac on the back before he quickly ushers him out of the crowded room. Mac follows Wicks down a hallway but notices that it's leading them back to the library. Not wanting to push his luck and knowing that he needs to make the call as soon as he can, he decides just to keep quiet and wait; his mind literally counting the seconds to his freedom.

"Here he is George, ready and motivated," Wicks mentions in a loud tone.

Mac looks back at Wicks and frowns. "When can I make my call?"

"When hell freezes over," Wicks laughs. "After that little stunt you pulled yesterday do you think you even earned a call? No breakfast either."

"You can't do this," Mac protests.

"Yeah? And who are you going to tell?" Wicks goads.

"I have my rights; even in here," Mac states firmly.

"You have the right not to piss me off further. You know when I first talked to you Mark, you seemed like a guy I could get to be real friends with. But your attitude as of late is becoming bothersome."

"Then have me transferred out!" Mac growls in return. However, he quickly realizes that he just played into the very trap he was trying to avoid; Wicks had him now.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Wicks taunted. "Well too bad, you aren't going anywhere, anytime soon," his finger sticks into Mac's chest.

That was another game of Wicks; if any of them was defiant, he went from helping them to making their lives a living hell; probably so much so that they would beg him to be kind, to go back to the way things were; probably offering whatever he wanted just to give them some mental peace. Sadly Mac knew what Wicks wanted from him and that was the last thing he was ever going to give him.

"Now unless you want to work with a tight gag in your mouth, shut up and do your damn job!" Wicks growls at Mac; before he pulls back and looks up at George with a wink. "I'll be back later."

"Too bad, I'd like to see a gag in you," George whispers as he slaps Mac on the ass and then turns to leave. Mac feels his fists tighten so much that in a matter of seconds, they are red and hurt from the tension. He quickly releases them; telling himself that Flack has seen the footage, has heard the threat and is working on his escape plan. Not realizing that thanks to him landing oddly the night before in solitary the glasses feed was now a bit sporadic and his request for a call not clear.

XXXXXXXX

"Just checked in now and Mac's working in the library," Flack tells Stella as he hovers in the doorway. "Rewound a few hours and I guess he's pulling a double because he's been there the whole time."

"Is he um, okay?"

"Seems to be. I mean I see what he does right? So I don't see him but I see what he sees."

"So you can't tell if he's been in any fights or such?"

"Stella, I'm sure he's fine. If Mac is able to get that guy Ron to agree to a deal today then I'm just waiting on a phone call."

"Are you sure?"

"Mac spoke quietly into the glasses and said that he just needed to confirm with Ron because he didn't get that clear an answer this morning and then we'll go in make the deal and he'll be pulled."

"Don, what if he can't make that call."

"Mac will make it happen. We all know how stubborn he is," Flack lightly smirks.

"And if that gets him into more trouble?" Stella argues.

"I would tell you not to worry but I know you won't listen," Flack replies; his smirk gone.

"Can you blame me?" Stella asks with a heavy sigh.

"Not in the least," Flack replies with a frown. "Jess and I are heading out to dinner, want to join us?"

"You know last night I slept here and um...well I think I'll go home and...damn it Don why didn't he tell me. I have been dwelling on this fact all day. It can't be a trust issue because Mac and I trust each other with everything."

"I'd say it's a guy thing, but you'd probably hate me even more," Flack sighs. "Jimmy asked Mac not to tell; just to preserve Drew's dignity in death. Mac wanted to respect that and...he was going to tell you Stella."

"What if um..." her voice dies out, unable to actually contemplate expressing the rest of her tormented thoughts. "He's going to be fine," she finally mentions in a firm tone.

"Stella?"

"I have to keep telling myself that Don or I'll go off the mental deep end. He's going to be fine and this time tomorrow, we'll be laughing about all this over dinner."

"I got a call from Sinclair. Hold on a sec," Flack tells her as he answers his phone.

Stella waits with bated breath, her heart racing at the news that Mac was already on his way to being released and in no time at all she'd be able to hold him in her arms; never wanting to let him go again. The call ends and Flack looks at her with a blank expression.

"Well?"

"The footage is kinda spotty but Sinclair has reviewed the past few hours. Ron it seems is in, but then Mac wasn't able to talk to him the rest of the day to cement the deal. He says he'll have a chance to confirm tonight just before its lights out. He's asked for his call and it wasn't granted and now he's working."

"What? Why?"

"Stella it's no big deal."

"Don."

"He got into a bit of an arguement."

"What if he can't make that call?"

"Mac will get it tonight. They can't deny him it altogether Stella."

"An argument?"

"He's fine," Flack insists; the video footage not picking up that Wicks had already made brief physical contact and Flack not telling Stella the things that the glasses had picked up that both Wicks and George threatened Mac with. Flack telling himself that Mac would make the deal and be happy that Stella would be spared such ugly details.

"But..."

"As soon as I hear something further, I'll let you know. But it sounds like Mac has got this almost taken care of."

"I hope so. Thanks Don," Stella offers numbly as Jessica finally joins them. They all make small talk for a bit longer before Stella watches them leave and then knows it's time to get home herself. Mac will be home tomorrow, she keeps telling herself as she gets into a waiting cab; her mind flashing images of her husband's smiling face from a few days ago. She was angry at first at Mac for him keeping something so important from her; putting himself in harms way just to avenge a person who only wanted to kill him.

_Damn his sense of justice, _she inwardly laments as she closes her eyes for a few seconds, her mind drifting. He had thought that sparing her the truth; the awful details of Drew's death would offer her some kind of mental reprieve when he was gone. But now that she knew, her anxiety was making her sick; the mere possibility of something going wrong and Mac being attacked...assaulted...their future forever altered.

"Nothing will happen," she tells herself as she enters their quiet apartment; once again hating the sound of sickening silence that is greeting her. She numbly goes about her small tasks, trying to keep her mind on anything but the fact that something could go wrong; so close to the end, Mac's freedom possibly hours away.

"Mac is fine, nothing is going to go wrong."

What she didn't know was, the small tight, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was about to get a lot worse.

XXXXXXXX

By the time his shift was coming to an end, Mac's anger was almost through the roof. He was kept in the library all day, away from any kind of communication except George and his lewd comments; away from Ron and the other inmates; away from food and water and away from hope, even the hope of just going back to his cell and being alone, needing to talk to Ron and get his phone call. If this was part of Wicks plan to reduce hope Mac could see how it could work; a few days of no food and isolation with only these two and a man would snap; a weak man.

So far the guard in the other cellblock hadn't approached him; telling him that possibly Sinclair and Flack weren't as diligent at being at their post as they said they would be, possibly waiting on his phone call; a call he now feared he'd never be able to make. _But he hadn't asked to be pulled so knows that unless he asks to be pulled they'll be waiting on his call._

He spies Wicks coming for him and tells himself to back down; not wanting to end up like the night before, or worse enduring a humiliating defeat. Just go back to his cell, talk to Ron and get the hell out.

"Enjoy your day Mark?" Wicks asks with a grin.

"Do I get to eat now?" Mac asks with some annoyance as he notices the lights around him starting to dark. As the area around him starts to get dark, he feels his fear starting to build. _Just play it smart, _he orders himself. Get the hell out of here in one piece. Sadly Wicks had other ideas.

"If you're a good boy," Wicks mocks; forcing Mac to grit his teeth. He holds up the cuffs and then offers Mac an insidious grin. "Are you going to be a good boy?"

"I'm done playing your games."

"I think you know what your defiance earns you Mark. A trip to a special place."

"I'm not going back into solitary; you do that again and I will tell someone," Mac warns as he tries to turn to leave. His shift had just ended; but the library was already empty and dark and his mind is racing that he'll face another night like the one before or worse.

"Is that a fact?" Wicks asks with some anger as his eyes shift from Mac to a man behind him. "You're not going anywhere Mark."

Mac quickly turns to see a man wearing a black leather mask coming toward him. He appears to have the same build as George but with his face covered, Mac knows unless he gets that mask off, he'll not have another person that he can have some clout over. He feels himself being backed into a corner; his fists slowly curling into tight balls; not going down without a fight.

"Hey Mark," Wicks voice calls Mac back. But just as Mac turns around; his jaw connects oddly with wick's fist. Mac's head snaps back, but he doesn't lose his footing. Just as he's pulled back by whom he assumes is George, Mac's fist lands on Wicks jaw; his intent to do as much damage to the guard as possible; hoping that someone will ask questions and then come seeking his side.

George grabs him by the arm and yanks him back. Mac's knee comes up as he pivots and lands in George's groin, forcing George to curse and lunge at Mac. Mac tries to yank the mask of George's head but find's it fastened behind his head and his fingers unable to reach the clasp; his actions only angering George further. Mac is able to side-step George's advance but not Wicks. Wicks arms grab Mac and around the waist and give him a good yank backward, causing Mac to lose his footing and stumble toward his knees.

"We like it rough Mark," Wicks taunts as he lands a hard blow to Mac's side. Mac falters but is able to quickly recover and deliver a hard elbow to Wicks side just as George hits him in the side once more. Wicks yanks one of Mac's pant legs, forcing Mac to falter but landing one more hard blow to George's face, hoping some bruises will penetrate through the mask; something he'll be able to see tomorrow, that is if he survived tonight.

Mac's lips offer another grunt as he sustains another blow to his side, taking him down to his knees. Wicks takes advantage of Mac's fallen state by pouncing, forcing Mac to slam to the floor on his stomach, his lips offering a gasp as his breath is temporarily winded; another hit to his side and his fight beings to fade.

"Foreplay is over Mark," George growls as Wicks holds Mac's struggling body, finally getting the cuffs around his wrists behind his back; not caring about cutting his skin; just wanting to get him subdued. Mac continues to thrash, doing anything in his power to not have his wrists captured, but when he feels the cuffs close around his wrists he feels his fear escalate, for now he knows that Wicks will be able to do or touch whatever he wants and that thought forces Mac's mind into full blown panic mode.

"Although it was fun," Wicks slaps Mac hard on the ass as he slowly stands up and then grabs a handful of Mac's orange prison uniform and gives it a tug, pulling Mac backward onto his side.

"Got a nice ass Mark."

"Can't wait to make use of that," George taunts.

With his wrists trapped behind his back Mac has no choice but to use the rest of his body to fight; flinging himself at George and making the masked man stumble backward; George's sickening words dancing around his frantic brain. _Can't allow that to happen, _Mac's mind shouts. _Never will happen._

"You are just delaying the inevitable Mark," Wicks laughs as he kicks Mac in the side. Mac's body slightly falters; his heart rate nearing critical as both men now loom over him.

"Let's take him to the back; more privacy," Wicks suggests.

George grabs Mac by the arms and hauls his still struggling body upright.

_NO! _Mac's mind shouts as he can only imagine what awaits him. He kicks at Wicks and then pushes backward into George with whatever strength he has left. But another punch to the gut and Mac's body falters once more in George's firm grasp.

"Help...me!" Mac gasps.

"Damn this one's a fighter," George groans as he painfully jerks Mac's trapped arms higher behind his back; Mac's body forced to feel the pain and subside a little.

"Ex-army brat," Wicks grins in Mac's face as he produces a cloth to gag him with. "Just means he'll be a bit harder to break."

"More fun for us," George laughs.

"Oh don't worry Mark, we know it'll be fun for you also. We know you like this."

"I do...not..." Mac manages as he tries to pull himself free; his actions in vain.

Mac's frantic brain tells him not to give in to panic or fear that there words just meant to instill crippling fear and that he was going to be okay; he would not suffer the same fate as Drew or Larry or the others. He tries to kick at Wicks once more but after another hard blow to his cheek Mac's body once again falters in George's grasp.

"We know you army guys like it rough Mark; your denial is just turning us on all the more."

"Go to...hell..." Mac finally growls as he looks up at Wicks with a flushed face, small beads of sweat trickling down his face.

"Already have been," George taunts as he still holds Mac's struggling body under his underarms, putting painful pressure on his trapped arms; fatigue starting to set in. But Mac knows that as soon as he gives up or gives in, he's dead; at least mentally and he cannot allow that to happen.

"I think you're lying," Wicks grins as he looms in closer.

"HELP ME!" Mac shouts as Wicks leans in closer.

"No one around here Mark. No one coming to help you," Wicks sneers.

"Can't we keep him quiet for now?"

"Sure."

Mac pulls back as hard as he can; knowing that if he's silenced, no one will hear anything and he needs to alert someone to his terrifying predicament. However, just as he's about to be silenced, his ears pick up a faint sound. Was it a door opening? Was that another voice? Did someone hear him? Or was that just the pounding in his head.

"Playtime Mark."

_STELLA! _Mac's mind calls just before his lips finally utter one more word.

XXXXXXXX

"Mac!" Stella bolts upright in bed; her heart also racing and her brow damp; her eyes frantically looking over at Mac's empty side of the bed. "Oh god...something's wrong."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so what do you think Mac heard? Something? Nothing? A friend? Or another foe? Please tell me what you think and also how I am doing so far on this story. Due to it being so angsty and with the last few crappy NY eppies and recent events I was considering pulling. But do you want me to continue? Please let me know.

If you want more please remember much I love Mac so please don't think me evil (he's not a victim) but this is a story that is going to play with the mental aspect of fears and doubts and how far justice has to go or one man's quest for vengeance. And it will also deal with how a strong person, who is temporarily weakened (in his case mentally) rises from a bleak situation and can face the world on their terms with renewed strength and determination. Of course with the love and strength of Stella with him every step of the way.


	5. An Altered Future?

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 5 - An Altered Future?**

**A/N: **Strong content advisory

* * *

Mac continues to struggle; knowing that if he gives up or gives in, his life is over. Even if he doesn't die, he knows he'd never be the same again. His mind calls to Stella for help just as his ears pick up the sound of a door being opened. With the knowledge that someone could be coming Mac knows it's now a fight for his life; not just his freedom. Mac twists his head to the left and shouts; not caring if he strains his vocal cords.

"HELP ME!" Mac yells for all he's worth just before Wicks shoves the cloth into Mac's mouth. But before he can tie it behind his head, the three of them pick up Ron's voice and two others.

"Mark?" Ron calls out and Mac's mind instantly heaves a large sigh of relief.

"Damn it. Keep him quiet. Don't move."

Wicks motions to George who has now covered Mac's mouth with his large hand, shoving the cloth further between his lips and keeping Mac's protests to a muffled whisper. Mac twists his head, trying to get the cloth to come out so that he can call for help once more; anything to get himself free of his twisted captors. However, a harsh elbow to his chest, forces Mac's muffles to temporarily subside. With his wrists cuffed behind his back, he has no means of defense but doesn't care and continues to struggle.

Wicks looks at Mac and slowly licks his lips; forcing Mac's body to buckle with disgust his hands still trying to claw at George's; wanting to at least distract George long enough for him to loosen his grasp on his mouth. Mac sends his head backward into George's, forcing the masked man to offer a whispered curse and Mac to receive another punch to his cheek, finally opening the small cut that was made earlier.

"We like when you struggle Mark," George whispers in Mac's ear, forcing Mac to narrow his gaze at Wicks who simply nods in agreement but then looks back toward the entrance where three men are hovering.

"Let's just wait," Ron states loudly; Mac praying that his twisted captors will let him go. Mac continues to struggle in George's grasp but as soon as George's other arm wraps around his neck, his struggling subsides; his lips through the gag and George's hand now gasping for air.

"Then stop struggling!" George hisses in Mac's ear as he feels Mac's chest heaving for air.

"I like it," Wicks winks; forcing Mac's gaze to narrow once again in hatred. "Why the hell can't they leave?"

"You hear something?"

"Should we look around?" Mac hears another voice with Ron state gruffly.

"Crap," Wicks lips offer another curse but knows that if they are found then he could have a lot of trouble to explain to those that he doesn't want attention from. He knows that he cannot arrange Ron Knight's death right now; but he can have him transferred to another cellblock; away from Mac. With that thought he motions to George to let Mac go.

But just before he does, Wicks grabs a handful of Mac's hair and roughly jerks his head to the side; his ear inches from his lips. "You tell anyone about this and I swear I'll make today look like a walk in the park. Next time there will be more of us and less of you. You understand?" Wicks hisses as his hand gives Mac's groin a harsh grab; his throat filling with bile but unable to be vomited out thanks to the gag. "And there will be more of this."

Mac's lips offer a painful yelp as he tries to kick out; but the longer Wicks fingers remain where they shouldn't the faster his body recoils in fear.

"You understand Mark?" Wicks snaps as he glares into Mac's now flushed face.

Mac offers a quick nod; wanting to do anything to get out of there as fast as he could; his brain in too much of an enraged state to do anything but comply. But at the same time he vows inside that this will be the last time that he's trapped by Wicks and Wicks would pay for all he's done. _You'll never touch me again you asshole! _Mac curses in his mind.

"You and I will get this moment back Mark," Wicks whispers in a low tone. "This is far from over!"

"We'll see you again Mark," George whispers in Mac's ear his hands still firmly wrapped around Mac's chest and stomach. Wicks quickly undoes the cuffs and then yanks the cloth from Mac's bruised lips; punching him hard in the gut once more and sending Mac to his knees; gasping for air.

"R-ron!" Mac calls out in a hoarse tone; his eyes trying to focus and his mind telling him that Wicks touching did not just happen. He shakes his head, willing the feelings to subside, but they won't and now he knows that he has run out of time; next time Wicks will do worse.

"RON!"

"See you soon Mark," Wicks taunts as he and George disappear through a door in the back; just as Ron comes around the corner.

"What the hell?" Ron growls as Mac looks up with a tormented gaze; prompting Ron to rush to his side to help him stand up.

"Mark, you okay?"

"Ron we...are out of...time," Mac manages as he slowly falters; Ron grabbing him just in time.

"You okay?"

"Nerves," Mac answers in half truth, his heart beating so fast that he has trouble breathing normally.

"Looks like you took a beating. Was it Wicks?"

"Yes. Do you...want a deal?" Mac asks; as his knees buckle again.

"Hold on I got you. I want this to stop," Ron states as the other two approach. "When?"

"Tonight, I just need to make a call," Mac gets out in one breath; his weight still being supported by Ron's.

"We can help with that," Ron assures him. "You need to get to an infirmary first."

"No, I'll...be okay," Mac gently wheezes as the other two rush to help. But when Mac sees the two strange men rushing to grab him, he instantly recoils and nearly takes Ron down with him.

"Mark they won't hurt you, but we need to get him to the doctor," Ron directs as he gently pats Mac on the back. "You need some help."

"No...no help," Mac tries to protest but as he stands upright; his ribs knit and he offers them a small gasp of pain as his body finally releases all adrenaline and his body falters once more.

"Stop trying to be a hero," one of them tells Mac as they slowly head for the front door. Mac twists his head to the back and notices the two dark shadows outlined against the backlit door to the supply room and tells himself that once he makes the call he'll be safe and this nightmare will finally be over.

They near the infirmary in the facility that Mac is in and he looks at Ron with a worried expression. "I don't need..."

"See you back at home Mark," Ron offers, not listening to Mac's protest just as the doctor walks up to them. As much as he doesn't want Ron to go, not knowing what kind of pull Maurice Wicks has over everyone, he reluctantly watches the three of them leave before he turns back to the doctor with a slight frown.

"Up on the table."

"I'd prefer to..."

"Stand?" The doctor counters. "Yeah right. You look like you could fall over at any second. Please, get up on the table."

"I don't want help."

"I'll just to..."

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Mac shouts and then turns away in anger; his face flushed and his heart producing small black circles before his eyes. He closes his eyes but as soon as he does, he feels Maurice Wicks touching him and his eyes snap open and he heads for the door.

"Your face is bleeding," the doctor mentions. "You go out there like that and you'll be an instant target."

Mac stops at the door, his body exhaling and his shoulders slightly slumping. But the doctors words make sense and when his fingers come back from his cheek, he offers the man behind him a small nod and finally resigns to the doctors request and slowly walks over to the examining table and hops on; his mind cursing his stupidity of being trapped in that room all alone. _I should have just left, _Mac tells himself over and over again. _Can't believe he...god I can't believe he touched me._

"Got yourself into a school yard scuffle huh," the doctor gives Mac a stern expression as he looks at Mac's burgeoning black eye. Mac looks at him in remorse but his brain for some reason is now refusing to give words to his mouth; his eyes looking up so that they won't mist and the man before him won't think him weak in any way. _Can't appear weak...can't give in...never give in._

"How'd this happen?" The doctor continues to press.

_'Foreplay is over...it was fun...'_

"I was um...cornered," Mac frowns as his eyes dart nervously around.

"Was it a fair fight?"

_'Next time more of us...less of you...'_

"No," Mac answers in a quiet tone.

Mac feels his throat unable to swallow back a large lump; his face wincing under the cool disinfectant that is now being applied to a small cut on his cheek. Mac's lips offer a slight gasp of pain as his posture sags and painful pressure is applied to his tender ribs and tenderl stomach; a stomach that hasn't had food or water for nearly twenty-four hours.

"Chest hurt?" The doctor asks as his hand reaches in to examine Mac's ribs. But just as his eyes start to water he pushes the doctor away and he quickly hops off the examining table; telling himself that no man was ever going to touch him ever again. "You look a bit pale. Maybe ask for an extra portion at dinner huh."

"I'm done."

"I need to tend to the other cut."

"I don't need help!" Mac barks in anger. But just as the doctor's fingers land on his shoulder; his brain registers the same gesture that Wicks always did and he counters in haste; his fist raised and his stance once again ready for a fight.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the doctor states firmly. "But if you hurt me you will pay the price. I'm sorry to threaten but I don't know what you are capable of, and as you can see I am unarmed."

_I could kill you, _Mac's mind offers in anger until he realizes the man before him doesn't want to do him harm; only wants to complete his job; doing so without all the facts from Mac, facts that Mac wasn't willing to offer, not knowing who to trust and who to fear.

"Right...sorry," Mac mumbles a little out of breath, his heart about to explode; his face still flushed and his brow damp.

"I can see youve been through an ordeal but I am not going to hurt you. Okay?"

Mac looks at the man with fear, his mind unable to push aside the feel of George's hands on his body; starting with his waist moving lower; their words in his ear and the feeling of finally being caught. His mind flashes to Wicks who, unlike George, didn't hesitate and forced Mac to feel the real horror of his evil intent.

"I just want to attend to your wrists," the doctor states in a mild tone, not wanting to add to Mac's growing agitation. "Or I can leave those cuts as they are."

Mac looks down at his mildly cut wrists and feels his stomach about to throw up liquid as he hasn't had food since the night before; the cuts a stark reminder of what he had to endure. Mac numbly holds out his wrists, his eyes rapidly blinking as he knows he still has to walk back to his cell; not wanting to show himself in any kind of weakened state to the other male prisoners.

_'We'll see you real soon...more of us than you...'_

Mac feels bile coming from his stomach and lightly chokes before swallowing it back down. His lips offer a muffled curse as the disinfectant lightly mixes with his tender flesh.

"Anything you want to tell me?" The doctor asks without looking at Mac.

"No," Mac manages in small whisper.

"You know it's nothing to be..."

"I said no!" Mac snaps and then looks away in remorse.

"I meant not intrusion," the doctor huffs.

"I just don't want to talk about it."

"I understand. Well at least I hope you'll talk to someone about it; not good to isolate yourself."

_I will make the call and be out of here, _he tells himself, trying to push aside Wicks tormented threats. But as his mind forces him back into his terrifying predicament once again, he sees small black circles starting to form and knows he needs to get back to Ron; now finding some comfort and unspoken strength in the company of the older man; a man who rescued him from a true life altering situation.

He thanks the doctor and heads for the door, biting back his anger and telling himself that this is almost over and that he'll never have to experience anything that terrifying ever again; that Wicks one touch was it and no man would ever be able to subject him to abject emotional anguish. He would make the call and Wicks would be history. _This ends tonight, _Mac tells himself with firm conviction. _This bastard is going down._

But just as he nears the entrance to his cell he quickly notices something is very wrong. He spies Wicks waiting for him with a wide grin on his face; Ron no where to be seen. He feels his panic start to rise and his fear starting to grow once more as he nears the large man. First Bart disappeared and now Ron. His eyes nervously dart around; praying for Ron to appear; praying that he is not completely alone. Offering a whispered curse he approaches the sadistic madman with an angry expression.

"Welcome home Mark," Wicks greets.

Mac looks past Wicks and notices that not only is Ron not there but all his stuff is also missing. "What the hell? Where is he? Was he moved?"

"That's right Mark, you are all alone now."

"Where is he you piece of garbage?" Mac asks in anger as he takes a step closer. But just as he nears the entrance he watches two more guards approach and feels his stance once again harden.

"Looks like you got into a bit of a scuffle Mark," Wicks smiles as he leans in a little closer; not answering Mac's question. "Need some nursing?"

"Where is Ron?" Mac demands again, his feelings of frustration skyrocketing.

"Miss your bedmate Mark? I can help with that."

"Listen to me you sick bastard..."

"Like me touching you Mark?"

"Where's George?" Mac demands, praying his voice sounds firm and not weak or shaky as part of his entire being wants to feel right now; standing before the man that not so long ago tried to ruin his life.

"He's busy Mark, so Mike and Pete will have to do. You are coming with us."

"I am not going anywhere with you and I want my damn phone call!" Mac hisses as he backs up a bit, hoping the other inmates will notice the altercation and alert someone; anyone but the madman before him.

"You don't make orders Mark and I certainly don't have to listen to anything you tell me. In here _I am _in charge. NOT YOU!" Wicks shouts, forcing Mac to slightly backup. "You have to do what I say and when I say it."

"You are wrong about that!" Mac snaps in return as he looks to his right; noticing the other inmates keeping to themselves, no one wanting to come to his aid, even verbally.

"No one here to help you Mark; not unless they want to pay the same price."

"Pardon?"

"Solitary Mark. I think you need some time to think about your actions as of late."

"I am not going anywhere with you."

Wicks looks at Mac with an amused smile. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you get off on this. Is that right Mark, this foreplay make you hard?" He snickers. "I think you like this."

And before his brain can react, Mac's fist flies through the air and lands in Wicks mouth, busting open his bottom lip; his body lunging at the large man without thinking of the consequences, wanting anything to make him stop his horrid taunts. However, just as he's about to land another blow to Wicks, he's pulled back by other two guards.

"I'm not..." Mac tries only to have the other two guards rush in and each grab an arm. "This man tried to assault me!" Mac shouts at Wicks who merely smiles in return. Filled with new found adrenaline, Mac once again tells himself that he'll not go easily; that as a marine he was taught it was a fight to the death in any situation where you were taken by an enemy. Maurice Wicks wore that label proudly.

"Let go," Mac grunts as he tries to pull himself free. One of the guards lands a hard punch to his back, forcing Mac to gasp in pain.

Wicks picks himself up and looks at Mac in anger before reacting. "You will pay for your insolence Mark!" He growls as he lands a hard fist to Mac's gut, forcing Mac's already throbbing and panic filled frame to double forward in their grasp. Wicks grabs a handful of Mac's hair, painfully jerking his head upright.

"You won't...get away...with this," Mac wheezes angrily.

"Can and will," Wicks taunts down at Mac's lightly struggling body. "You see you need to learn a few things about protocol and conduct around here. Such as I am in charge and you are here for my pleasure!"

"You will pay...for this," Mac warns.

"You will first. Was only going to put you into solitary for a few hours; how about all night? Think that will break your defiant streak? And if that doesn't work then I'll just have to try something a bit more persuasive."

"You'll never win!" Mac counters.

"Yeah and who is going to help you?" Wicks smiles as he pats Mac on the cheek. "No one is going to help you! Get this through your thick head Mark, no one is going to help you...no one wants to hear you and you are alone! You will always be alone!"

Mac tries once more in vain to pull against the two strong guards holding him tightly in their grasp; his ribs ache, his stomach on fire and his mind racing with panicked thoughts about something going wrong with his rescue; Wicks being allowed to do a lot more harm than just a quick touch.

"Hold him," Wicks commands as he produces the heavy handcuffs. "I know you like these."

"No..." Mac stammers.

Mac tries to kick at Wicks but is pulled back by the guards, his wrists in front for Wicks to take. Not wanting to be subdued in any way, he tries to kick at him again, but the two guards, trained in prisoner restraint, each wrap a leg around one of his and he's unable to do anything but try to headbutt Wicks as he nears. It doesn't work. Mac curses as the heavy metal bites back into the fresh cuts, chaffing the skin further and opening a few more cuts as he struggles to pull away before the cuffs snap shut and he's trapped once again.

"Let's go," Wicks growls as Mac tries to jerk himself free.

"HELP ME!" Mac calls as he's literally dragged down the cellblock hallway; his legs kicking into the air as each guard has him by an arm.

"Don't make me gag you Mark!" Wicks threatens.

"He's going to assault me!" Mac shouts once more to which Wicks just laughs.

"Think they want to believe someone who is in here for doing just as bad, even worse?"

"I haven't done anything wrong!" Mac huffs as he continues to pull, not caring about the strain on his wrists. But as they near the entrance to solitary, his senses go into overdrive and he tries whatever he can to break free. But with his energy and strength rapidly depleting, Mac's fighting is a losing battle.

Just as they reach solitary Wicks slams the first door shut and motions to the two guards to release Mac; his body merely sagging to his knees from sheer physical fatigue. But as soon as Wicks nears him, he pushes himself backward, trying to stay out of his grasp; the two guards behind in case they are needed.

Wicks kneels down and grabs the center link to the cuffs and then yanks Mac forward once more; their faces inches apart. Mac tries to pull back, but with Wicks large hand firmly holding the steel, Mac can only pull back, cutting his wrists once more.

"I hate defiance," Wicks growls; prompting Mac to spit at him. Mac receives a predicted backhand to the face, but quickly counters and offers Wicks another look of hatred and anger.

"I will break you," Wicks states firmly, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the cuff clasp; ensuring that Mac can't go anywhere.

"I will never allow that," Mac promises.

"You see Mark I know you like this. All this rough and tumble foreplay; the verbal exchange back and forth. I know it gets you hard; I can tell."

"Bastard," Mac curses under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"You like the word liar better?" Mac counters as Wicks leans in closer, his hot breath on Mac's rough cheek.

"I know you like me Mark."

"Go to hell."

"You don't have to be afraid of me Mark."

"I am not afraid of you."

"Liar!" Wicks laughs. "I can see you're afraid Mark."

"I am not afraid of you," Mac repeats; praying his rapidly beating heart doesn't betray his anxiety, which could be misconstrued as fear. "I'll bet that is what really pisses you off right? That all the others broke down by now and it's just killing you that I'm still defying you; despite the hell I have had to endure at your hand!"

"Hell is still coming Mark. Your headstone has already been written; it's just a matter of time before you give in, before you are mine; before I break you completely. And after your night in solitary, no food, no water, no hope; I'm going to show you just how easy it will be to break you. You will be mine for as long as I want."

Mac feels his body tensing once more as Wicks free hand now rests on his thigh, moving higher. Mac tries to pull back but Wicks offers his leg a firm squeeze and Mac's face breaks into a soft wince. "And I will break you Mark. One way or another."

"You are wrong," Mac tries again, unable to get his hands free to stop Wicks from moving higher toward his groin. His brain yells at him to stop Wicks; that Wicks has already has some twisted pleasure in getting a touch in earlier and not to allow it to happen again.

"For real fear is the dominance of the innocent," Wicks continues, his slow tormented speech; hoping to break Mac's resistance down as he did the others. "Just remember that."

"Listen to me you sick bastard. You let me out of these damn cuffs and I'll show you something to be afraid of. What's the matter? Afraid I'll kick your ass in front of your friends? A fair fight?" Mac growls as he pulls his legs back, not caring that he was scraping his knees; Wicks free hand sliding away from Mac's groin.

"Perhaps one day we'll find out. But not anytime soon," Wicks smiles as he slowly stands up, gesturing to the two men who drag Mac up; forcing him to face him once more. "As I said before I can see your fear. I see your terror. I know you are afraid."

"I'm not afraid of you," Mac tells him firmly; his body still inches from the man he's now desperate to get away from; telling himself that Wicks is just using a fear mongering technique to try to break his resistance. And he knows he's right; the others probably did give in by now; but he didn't care, that was the last thing he was going to do; even if it cost him his life.

Mac continues his useless struggle in the grasp of the two men holding him tight. His legs try to kick at Wicks once more, but Wicks simply sidesteps Mac's kick and offers Mac's gut another harsh blow. Mac's frame doubles forward in the guards grasp, his stomach aching from lack of food and his mouth dry from lack of water; but his brain urging him to keep going; keep showing defiance and not to give in.

"I smell your fear Mark."

"I'm not...afraid of...you," Mac grunts as he continues his useless struggle; his body starting to tire from lack of food and the throbbing in his chest and back from the hits. The guards, under Wicks direction, push Mac up against the wall, his arms pulled taut and his legs once again immobilized by the guards legs; his heart nearing critical.

"Now I will take a bet on that Mark," Wicks continues. "I'm willing to bet that each time the darkness engulfs you, the terror in your mind takes over what little sanity you have left, and pushes it aside. I'm willing to bet that each time you wake up whatever willpower you think you might enjoy weakens each time you check yourself to make sure you're still in tact," Wicks taunts in his face as his hand moves down past Mac's waist; reaching for his groin once again. "And each time you close your eye's I'm willing to bet it's my face you see. When you're alone with your thoughts, it's my dark future that awaits you," Wicks finishes with a twisted smile as Mac's lips offer a yelp at Wicks disgusting touch.

"Did you like that Mark? I think you did. I know I did. You have a lot to offer."

Mac quickly swallow's back bile once more; his body trapped and unable to move itself out of Wicks demented grasp. The longer Wicks hand remains in place the quicker Mac knows he's going to break down; even for a few seconds and that will have told Maurice Wicks that he has broken the headstrong marine.

_I can't let him see my fear_; Mac tells himself. I can't let him see my panic. I just have to believe that Flack is watching this and gets me out before he actually has a chance to fulfill whatever sick desire he has in mind. His mind tries to block out Wicks groping hand, telling himself that this isn't real and that Wicks will never succeed in doing anything further. Oh god, how could I live with myself if he succeeded all the way? How could I face myself each day knowing that a man has assaulted me? How could I face Stella and still think I'm normal? Damn it, he cursed inside. How could I do my job? I couldn't do it.

"No answer?" Wicks smirks. "Never heard the truth before?"

"Those were lies," Mac mentions in a softer tone; a hint of fear dancing around the edges of his words.

"Tell yourself what you want Mark in the end it won't matter for I will have already won," Wicks laughs as he finally releases his grasp on Mac and slowly heads toward the door of the solitary chamber. He turns back to watch Mac swallow and smiles; Mac's fists tightly curled but his body about to crumble at any moment. In fact if it wasn't for the two guards holding him captive in their grasp; Mac's body would have faltered as soon as Wicks started to touch him once more.

"Put him in," Wicks directs to the two guards. Mac offers one last attempt at fighting the dark confining space, twisting, pulling and kicking for all he's worth, but is finally shoved into the cell; the door slammed shut; sealing him inside the pitch black tomb; his ears picking up the twisted laughter from Maurice Wicks; his brain frantic with thoughts of what awaits if he's not pulled in time.

"Stella...oh god Stella, you have to help me..." he whispers as he remains on the cold stone floor on his side, his eyes automatically watering; his body coiled and his mind in turmoil.

XXXXXXXX

Stella lies awake in bed, her mind in misery; Mac's voice calling to her so real that she finds she's unable to fall back asleep. When they had first married, she remembered staying up the whole night, wondering if it was just a wonderful dream she was a part of and that if she fell asleep and woke up the next morning, she'd be alone and her Prince charming wouldn't be at her side as he was the night before.

"Mac," she whispers in sorrow. "I miss you so much." She closes her eyes and allows her mind to drift back to that first night.

_'Stella? Are you still up?'_

_'Afraid to fall asleep Mac.'_

_'Why?'_

_'Might wake up in the morning and you'll be gone.'_

_'I'm not going anywhere Stella,' he had assured her. 'I promise.'_

After that he had pulled her into his arms and held her close all night; proving his words true that when she woke up the next morning his warm sapphire eyes and handsome face were greeting with her a loving gaze.

_'You're still here.'_

_'I'll always be here when you wake up Stella.'_

"But you're not here now Mac," she laments as she feels her eyes water as she looks back at his empty pillow. She can almost feel his hand reach out and touch her face, his warm fingers brushing a stray tear off her cheek just as his lips lean in and plant a loving kiss on her waiting mouth.

"Tomorrow Mac...you'll be home tomorrow," she keeps telling herself; those few words having kept her company all day long. She had read the files on the five men; knew they had been befriended by Maurice Wicks and then assaulted by him; the reasons not ever being clear. It would be anyone's guess but she couldn't imagine the fear and humiliation those men must have suffered at the hands of that creep.

"Mac will be okay; he'll never have to endure anything like that," she states with a heavy sigh. "Flack will pull him as soon as he makes that call; and he's entitled to that call."

Throughout the day, she had tried to get either Sinclair or Flack to give her status updates; the last one being that he was working in the library and just needed to make his call.

She leans back on the pillow and tries to close her eyes; but as she feels them water once more, she opens them in haste, her heart rate picking up; her mind now pondering the horrible truth that something could go wrong. She had heard Mac call for her; his voice frantic and full of fear before it was silenced.

What she didn't know; what none of them knew, was at this moment, the live camera feed had stopped and Mac wasn't being monitored, watched or listened to. His pleas for release, for help...for hope, were falling on deaf ears.

XXXXXXXX

Mac had finally managed to get himself up against the stone wall, his body lightly shaking; his nerves frayed and his brain unable to control the shaking. He tries to push aside Wicks haunted words:

_'When you're alone with your thoughts, it's my dark future that awaits you...'_

"No...will never happen," Mac states in a firm whisper his fists tighten once more; the heavy handcuffs a quick reminder that he isn't in control and still at the mercy of the men outside. His cut wrists throb but his mind pushes aside the pain in his wrists and chest in favor of trying to erase Maurice Wicks words from his head.

_'Each time you close your eye's I'm willing to bet it's my face you see'..._

"Hate you..." Mac growls in an angry undertone. "HATE YOU!" He shouts, to which he only receives mocking laughter in return.

_'I know you are afraid..'_

"Not afraid..." Mac mumbles to himself. "Won't happen to me...never happen to me," he tells himself, Maurice's breath hot on his face as his fingers move lower, taking what they want and forcing Mac to realize that unless he is pulled tonight, he'll not survive what Wicks has in store for when he's finally let out of solitary.

His fingers fumble with the glasses; his hands shaking but his mind thankful for the darkness so his friend and superior don't see him in such a terrified state.

"I know you can hear me Flack. You have to get me out of here tonight. I'm uh...I'm in solitary and...just um...well do'nt tell Stella about...well about what you just saw and...she'll um...she'll think less of me," Mac finishes in misery; his mind displaying a false look of disappointment on her face when he tells her he wasn't strong enough to keep a man from touching him; even for only a few seconds. However, he too doesn't realize the camera link is broken; no one is listening to anything he has to offer.

"Ron Knight, he has been moved and um...well I think that Bart could be dead...god Flack you have to get me out of here. He said I'd be in here for the night...call the guard in the other cell block. Please get me out of here. Ron said he'd make the deal and um...well you saw what Wicks intentions are..."

Mac stops his talking for a few seconds, his voice ragged and his throat and mouth dry, his chest still throbbing and lightly heaving for air and his mouth for saliva. His eyes still can't adjust to the pitch black but he refuses to close them; afraid that if he does then Maurice Wicks will have won.

"He'll never win," Mac vows as he tightens his fists once more. This time they rub against the thick cold steel, breaking open a fresh scab and causing his lips to offer a small gasp of pain as new sensations course through his weary arms.

"Stella, I wish you could hear me," he starts again in misery; his mind cursing the fact that he can't look directly at the small camera that he thinks is still working; a device which had stopped recording as soon as his face had connected oddly with the cement when he was thrown into the cell. "Mabye it's better you don't."

Mac leans his head back on the cold cement, willing for at least the ringing in his ears to stop and his heart rate to slow to normal. But each time he feels Wicks fingers on his groin, touching him; threatening to...

_'My face you see...' _Wicks voice continues to taunt him.

Mac shakes his head once again in defiance, wanting more than anything for the image of Maurice Wicks to vanish for good; but fearing that even when he's rescued tonight the nightmares will still continue for some time to come.

"Flack...anytime now," Mac mumbles as he tries to shift to a better position. He fixes the glasses back on his face as he hears shuffling near the door; his heart beating faster that his means of salvation had finally arrived. Mac slowly eases himself forward, teetering on his heels, his body ready to be pushed upward so that he can walk out on his own.

However, he merely slumps back against the stone wall in defeat as he hears only laughter, coupled with his assumed name.

"Hey Mark! Not afraid of the dark are ya?" One would laugh.

"Would you like some company?"

"We don't bite...very hard."

Mac tries to drown out their taunts and laughter; telling himself that they are merely words and that very soon he would have the last laugh; reading them their rights as he has them all arrested for mistreatment of prisoners and human cruelty in general.

But as with the past half hour, the laughter would slowly subside and Mac would once again be forced to hear only the sound of his own shallow breathing and nervous heartbeat; telling himself over and over again that he would never face the things Wicks was implying.

He remembers stories his father would tell him about men in the Second World War or certain ethnic skirmishes; and how their prisoners where subjected to all forms of torture. He said that most would be able to stand firm against a physical beating; that they were able to tell themselves their pain was for the greater good. But he said that most would cave as they were worn down by mental torment; their captors using all means of words and visual stimuli to break the will of those they held captive.

"Wicks will never win...never break me..." Mac chants over and over again; trying to instill into his mind that he would remain strong and in tact.

"Stella...okay Don you can't listen to this part..." his lips offer a slight chuckle as he tries to push Wicks out of his mind and allow it to dwell on the face of his beautiful wife. "This for my wife only."

He takes a deep breath and then finally feels his fists to uncurl and his stomach to slightly soften as her image appears. "Stella...I wish you were here...you would have kicked those guys asses," he smirks, his bruised lips curling upward in the thick darkness.

"You would never have allowed it to get this far...sorry Don."

But as he slowly extends his tired legs in front; his cuffed wrists now resting in his lap he starts to wonder if he'll be able to work through this on his own. He knew his father had kept various secrets from his mother; always telling her that he was strong and in control and that he needn't worry her with trivial matters.

"Stella can't know...Don you need to keep this footage from her...she can't see me weak...she can never know..." he whispers in misery as his lips emit another tired grunt. Feeling fatigue starting to tug at his heavy eyelids, Mac slowly allows himself to sink to the floor; unable to find some comfort from the cold and with his wrists cuffed in front.

He hears another set of footsteps approaching and quickly props himself up on his wrists, once again, biting back the pain if it means his salvation is at hand.

"Hey Mark, you hungry?" One would call out in a cruel tone.

"Thirsty?"

"Heard you ain't had anything since last night."

"Got some stale bread you might like."

"GO TO HELL!" Mac shouts, once again not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing him beg for anything to put into his ravenous stomach. His mind registers the cruel laughter as he slowly slides back down to the cold floor. He tries to bring his right arm up under his face, but with his wrists held together in place by the thick steel, all he can do is offer an angry curse and then slump his head directly onto the floor.

His body offers a heavy exhale, his lips still chanting that Flack would be coming to get him at any moment. But as another tormented hour passes, his feeling of hope starts to fade. What if something has happened? What if these glasses stopped transmitting and they are waiting for my call? What if the guard has been found out and now they are scrambling to get someone else to fill in? What if

"Ahh!" Mac grumbles in anger as his eyes snap open; once again greeted by velvety black. He has slightly adjusted to the room; the darkness starting to subside a little as he's now able to make out the outline of the small cell he's forced to wait in.

"Don...you have to hurry," Mac tries again with a heavy frown. His fingers gingerly touch the cut on his face only to come away with a mixture of moisture; his own blood. "Damn it!" He curses in anger as he rolls onto his back; the floor harsh and unforgiving; his wrists resting oddly on his chest; no comfort to be offered to his weary and lightly battered body.

The minutes tick slowly past and Mac knows inside that something now is wrong; if Flack was listening then he should have been pulled by now.

"Hey Mark," Wicks taunting voice is heard as Mac closes his eyes and curses. "Want some company?"

Mac lies still, telling himself that it'll only do more harm than good if he gives Wicks any kind of verbal satisfaction. _Flack! _Mac's mind yells in silent misery. _HELP ME!_

"Aww not gone to sleep are ya Mark? How do you like your new home?"

Mac shakes his head in the dark, his brain now hearing Drew's or Larry's voice calling for help; begging for any kind of mental reprieve; something he refuses to give Maurice Wicks the satisfaction of.

"I can't stay long but just thought I'd drop by and make sure you knew I was thinking about you and the fun we will have later."

"Go to hell," Mac states firmly; his voice slightly quivering, from the cold he tells himself, not from fear.

"Afraid to close your eyes Mark? Can you see my face?"

Mac bites his tongue, once again commanding himself not to give his demented captor anything he wants.

"Well army brat I'll be back," Wicks snickers. "Sleep well Mark, you'll need your strength for all the fun we are going to have later."

Mac hears the footsteps heading away and then listens as his own mouths emits a heavy sigh of anxious relief. "Damn it Don, where the hell are you!" Mac's desperate cry is once again spoken to a black void. He closes his eyes, this time willing the pounding to stop and hoping the uneasy feeling in his stomach will subside.

"Stella...I love you," he whispers as he finally loses the battle and drifts off into a light slumber; nothing restful.

XXXXXXXX

Stella finally forces her weary eyes to open; glancing at the clock and offering a frustrated curse in Greek. It's earlier than she normally wakes up but she reminds herself that today Mac will be home and everything will be back to normal and so the few less minutes of sleep was worth it. The thought that she'd once again be waking up in Mac's arms, puts a small smile on her face, but does little to ease the anxiety in her system.

All night she kept hearing Mac's voice calling to her for help; begging for her to come and help him before the voice was silenced and she'd wake up in a panicked sweat; his band of gold weighing heavy on her chest, a painful reminder of his absense.

Stella pushes herself out of bed, makes it and heads for the bathroom, telling herself that as soon as she's in, she's going straight to Flack or Sinclair and see how Mac's deal was progressing. She heads into the kitchen rounding the corner and seeing Mac's face greeting her with a warm smile as he offers her a cup of coffee.

But as she blinks her eyes she realizes that she is alone and Mac is still locked in jail; being treated like a common criminal. Her mind however, cannot imagine the true terror her husband is experiencing; her heart telling her he is fine and will come out of this unscathed.

She starts up the coffee maker and then heads into the bathroom to start the shower. During the week, the mornings were usually rushed for them, but on the weekends they both took delight in an early morning sexual romp in the shower. She closes her eyes as the hot water dances with her skin; her mind offering feelings of Mac's strong arms touching her skin, teasing her waiting body and tempting her hungry desire for him.

"Tonight Mac..." Stella smiles as she finishes her shower and then slowly dries off; her mind trying to push aside an inner gnaw that wants to tell her only negative feelings, her heart wanting to hope for the best.

"I'll bet Mac will have at least eaten," she ponders as she heads into the master bedroom to get dressed for the day. She doesn't put too much time and effort into her wardrobe choice; selecting a pair of black dress pants and dark sweater before heading into the kitchen to get herself a mug of coffee to go.

Millie had bought them matching travel mugs, her mother in law knowing both their affinities for the strong dark beverage. But this morning, instead of reaching for the labeled with her name, she opts for the one with her husband's name. She pours the drink and then for the door, thankful that she has taken a cab as she knows with her anxiety growing at Mac's release she'd probably be distracted and cause an accident.

"Don, anything?" Stella asks over the phone; the cab nearing the lab.

"I am on my way to Sinclair's right now. He was called to a press conference but said that when he checked the footage last night, it was dark and so assumed Mac was still asleep. I'll check and see and then call you back."

"Don, I'm coming to you."

"Stella..." Flack tries in protest; not sure what he'll find from the night before.

"Don, I have to know...I want to be there."

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything," Flack states before he hangs up. Stella offers an ethnic curse but still presses onward toward Sinclair's office.

"Mac might be your friend Don, but he's my husband and I need to be there and that's final," she whispers in firm conviction; her heart starting to beat faster as she nears Sinclair's office.

XXXXXXXX

_'Does that feel good...does it get you off...I know you like it rough...did you enjoy that...'_

"NO!" Mac's lips gasp as his brain forces him awake once again from another tormented nightmare; Wicks touching him while he's unable to fight back; unable to call for help and unable to help himself. The past few hours were much the same, he'd force his mind to dwell on his beautiful wife but Wicks haunted words would push her aside in favor of twisted images and so by the time he heard the loud voice of another guard, his had gotten no firm sleep.

That fear coupled with the fact that Flack or Sinclair still hadn't pulled him, also fed his anxiety; his mind wondering if he would be pulled before Wicks actually got a chance to fulfill his demented fantasies. _They have to pull me now, _Mac tells himself. _This can't go on much longer. _But that is what he told himself for the past eight hours; his heart racing with elation each time he'd hear footsteps approaching and then shattering once more when he'd another bout of terrifying threats and humiliating taunts, his cuffed wrists unable to even stick his fingers in his ears to at least muffle the words.

Mac slowly pushes himself upward in the pitch black; his head still throbbing, his stomach aching from no food or water; his wrists raw and chaffed from spending so much time in the cuffs. His lips offer another grunt of pain as he slowly moves himself back to a seated position; his back also in pain from the beating the night before.

"Don where are you..." Mac grunts as his body tries to stretch once more. He offers another heavy sigh as his fingers fumble with the glasses; searching them, examining them. But he's unable to tell if the camera or transmitter has been damaged so just assumes everything is working just fine.

"They have to be coming," Mac tells himself as he hears a strange voice talking outside. He hears keys jingling and panic starts to seize him that it's not a friend coming to help him; but a foe coming to destroy him. The door slowly opens and Mac's eyes squint in pain; his brain trying to quickly register who is coming toward him.

"Time to go," the man states firmly; a voice that Mac knows it not Maurice Wicks.

"Where to?" Mac manages, his lips dry, his mouth parched and words almost painful to form.

"You are getting out of here," the guard tells Mac; and Mac's body automatically heaves a sigh of relief. He slowly stands upright, his body aching; his mind willing the room to stop spinning but knowing he'll push through the pain it if means he's walking out of this nightmare. Part of him worries about facing Stella after what Wicks did, but he tells himself that it was something that didn't break him and she would be better off not knowing; something he vows is not going to affect him.

Mac slowly heads toward the guard, his body sore and stiff with each step but his heart telling him to press onward.

"Where are we going?" Mac asks in a quiet tone as he approaches the guard he's never seen before, telling himself that it was the man that Flack has sent to secure his release.

"To see a friend," the guard replies as Mac finally exits the solitary box. He nervously glances around and notices the other guard is also different and hopes that the two guards that helped subdue and beat him the night before are with Wicks; on their way to being booked and charged.

"Look a little worse for wear," the guard notes as he looks at Mac; who has no idea just how rough a shape he really does appear to anyone looking at him.

"Just happy to be out," Mac frowns as he looks at the guard with arched brows. "What happened to Ron Knight?"

"I don't know," the man shrugs. "Who is he?"

"Cellmate 14627," Mac replies; having memorized the prison number his cellmate told him when he first arrived.

"I'll check on that, you okay to take a walk?" The guard asks when Mac slightly falters forward.

"Yes. Can I get these removed?" Mac slowly raises his damaged wrists with the heavy cuffs still attached.

"I don't have the key but should be able to find something to get those off. Ready to go?"

"Trust me, I'm ready," Mac answers in haste as the guard offers him a nod and then turns and heads out of the room, Mac following after him. His battered and weary condition garners looks from curious onlookers but he doesn't care; he's walking toward freedom, or so he thinks.

"Where are we going?" Mac asks in a low tone.

"To a safe place; trust me you'll like it," the guard replies to which Mac just frowns in return. They walk past the entrance to his cellblock and Mac wonders if perhaps Ron will be waiting, at least he hopes he'll be able to personally thank Ron Knight for agreeing to helping end Maurice Wicks reign of terror.

"Here we go," the guard tells Mac as he pushes the door open and Mac enters before the guard; his world coming to a complete stop just as the door slams shut behind him; the unmistakable sound of the lock being secured. Trapped.

"Hello Mark," Wicks grins. "Welcome to hell."

XXXXXXXX

Flack enters Sinclair's office and heads for the special computer that only he and Sinclair have the password to. He flips on the computer, enters the password and then waits for the feed to come to life. But when he sees only black static, his mind starts to panic. He realizes that nothing is recording and quickly calls for Adam.

"Something's wrong Adam," Flack states just as Stella enters.

"What do you mean something's wrong Don?" Stella asks in haste.

"The feed has stopped...Adam!" Flack barks.

"It um...the connection is lost and...hold on," Adam's voice is heard over the speakerphone. "One of the glasses camera's was broken but the other is only offline."

"Can you fix it?" Flack inquires.

Stella feels her fists tighten as they wait.

"Adam?" Stella presses.

"Yes just give me a minute..." Adam's voice is heard. Stella looks at Flack, her heart racing and her mind swimming with dizzying panic.

"Don," she manages weakly. "What if something has happened?"

"He'll be okay Stella. I'm sure he's probably in good hands right now," Flack utters fatefully.

XXXXXXXX

"Oh no," Mac whispers in fear.

"Oh yes."

Mac looks at Wicks and the masked man on his right and feels his stomach automatically tighten. This would now be a fight to the death; unless he was given a miracle. But he knows what Wicks has in mind and knows that he would never be able to face Stella or anyone else if he had to suffer the same fate as Drew or Larry or the others. Mac feels himself backing up; his mind frantically praying that Flack is watching and is sending help, that at any minute he'll be rescued and his seemingly inevitable fate will not be realized.

"No time to be shy Mark," Wicks offers a broad grin as he produces a knife. "Gotta get you outta that uniform somehow."

"You are making a big mistake," Mac states firmly, his heart rate starting to rise.

"You want this Mark. You came onto me as soon as you came here."

"That isn't true!" Mac insists as he finally backs into the door and realizes he's trapped. _Don where the hell are you! _His mind yells in a frantic panic.

"It is the truth. You befriended me and I did things to keep that friendship and now I am asking you to help me in return."

"This isn't want I wanted!" Mac states angrily.

"It's okay Mark, I like the back and forth. The first time might hurt a little, but afterward I know you'll come looking for me for more."

"You touch me in any way and I swear I'll kill you," Mac warns as the guard and George start to move in on either side. His eyes frantically dart between them and Wicks; then quickly scanning the rest of the room for anything that he can use for a fighting advantage.

"I'm going to do a lot more than touch Mark," Wicks grins as he slowly starts to remove his leather belt. "A lot more."

Mac finally spies a heavy wrench in the corner, to the left of Wicks and knows that has to get something, anything in his hands that he can use as a weapon. Without thinking twice Mac pushes himself away from the door and bolts for the corner, diving for the wrench; his cuffed wrists grabbing it just as Wicks grabs his legs and jerks him backward.

"We like it rough Mark, so show us what you got," Wicks taunts; prompting Mac to twist himself onto his side and swing the wrench at Wicks left leg, forcing the large man to yelp in pain as the metal connects with his skin.

"Son of a bitch,"Wicks curses.

Mac tries to get himself upright just as George and the other guard both rush in and grab one of Mac's arms pulling his flailing body away from Wicks.

Not letting go of the wrench, Mac swings to the right and clips the guard in the face just as George's fists lands on Mac's jaw, snapping his head to the right. The guards grasp on him had faltered but Wicks had already rushed in and looped his belt around the center of the cuffs and gives them a tug, forcing Mac to be pulled from George's grasp and crash to the floor on his knees, his fingers still clutching the wrench. But George quickly recovers and grabs at Mac's feet, forcing Mac to slam to the ground on his stomach, the wrench going flying.

"Damn this boy is turning me on," Wicks smiles down at Mac's struggling body. Mac kicks at George but receives a hard kick to the side by the guard who now also looms over him.

"A lot more fun than the others. A lot more fight to him."

"DON HELP ME!" Mac shouts, eliciting laughter from all three men.

"No one coming Mark," Wicks growls as he motions to George to let go of Mac's legs. Mac thrashes about once more when his legs are free but his struggling is in vain as he's lifted upright and met in the face by a hard blow from Wicks fist, snapping his head to the right and busting open his lip. Wicks pulls back with the leather belt but Mac offers a hard knee to Wicks groin and the large man finally falters.

"DON!" Mac calls again; wondering why the hell his friend still hadn't sent help.

Wicks takes off his glasses and looks at them with a smirk. "You look better without them," he mentions as he places them on a nearby table; facing the center of the room and all the action, the feed, that would be shortly restored, capturing everything that would be later used as evidence.

"Let's tie down this damn bastard already," George curses as he motions to the guard to bring the rope. Mac pulls against Wicks, finally freeing himself but slamming backward into the guard, who wraps his arms around Mac's waist and holds on; both tumbling to the ground. Wicks finally manages to get the rope latched through the center of the cuffs and pulls Mac with the help of George and the guard toward the center of the floor. Wicks tosses the rope upward as George and the guard hold Mac in place. Then much to Mac's horror, the rope is painfully tugged upward, pulling Mac's wrists into the air, over his head and away from his body; leaving him defenseless and vulnerable to their intentions.

"Help...me!" Mac gasps once more, his heart about to explode. His body continues to thrash about, pulling downward on the ropes; praying for them to pull back so he'd be able to try to fight them once more. But the ropes hold fast and he's trapped; his body pulled taut and upward.

Wicks ties the rope to a post coming out of the floor, securing it and keeping Mac captive until they are ready to let him go. Mac doesn't care what state his body is in, his mouth having already swallowed his own blood from his cut lips, his ribs feeling tender and about to snap and his rate racing painfully in his chest. But if he gives up, he's finished.

When Wicks is finished he stands back and smiles as he gives Mac a hard slap on the ass and then produces the knife, holding it up for Mac to see. "Beg me to stop Mark," Wicks taunts.

"Go to...hell...you sick...bastard," Mac offers in defiance as he tries to vain once more to pull back.

"Love it," Wicks laughs as he goes behind Mac. Mac kicks back with his legs and catches Wicks in the shin. "Damn it Mark! Tie his legs please," Wicks growls.

"HELP ME!" Mac shouts once more, his lungs burning and his heart about to give out from morbid terror. He feels the rope being crudely tied around his ankles and soon he's unable to kick anymore, his situation dire and his fate, he thinks inevitable.

"No one coming to help you Mark," Wicks reminds him as he stands before him with the knife. "Now you're afraid."

"Not...afraid of...you," Mac growls as his body continues to pull and pull against the rope but he knows with his strength from the beating, unless he's delivered fast his life really will be over. What if no one comes? I could never face Stella now. _Stella! _His mind calls in a panic.

"Time to break you Mark," Wicks smiles as he uses the knife to slit open Mac's prison uniform, forcing Mac's body to feel the cool air dancing with his sweat laden back. His body continues to pull against his bonds as Wicks knifes cuts lower, exposing his underwear and then opening a slice of fabric down one of his legs. "Very nice. Like black very much Mark. Course you'll look better with nothing."

_Oh god this can't be happening, _Mac's mind shouts in frantic horror. "DON!"

XXXXXXXX

"Got it," Adam finally states. "Sorry it took longer than..."

"Just get me the damn picture back already," Flack states in a huff. But when comes to life on the screen for Flack and Stella wasn't what either expected.

"Can you guys see it?" Adam queries, him of course not able to see as the feed was private and only for Sinclair and Flack.

"Yeah we..." Flack starts and then stops, his hand reaching for the phone, hanging up on Adam.

_"DON!" _They heard Mac shout, both fixed on the horrible scene before them. _"HELP ME!'_

_"No one to help you Mark.__ Time to break you," Wicks voice was also heard._

"Oh my god. MAC!" Stella states in horror as she bolts for the door; Flack on the phone calling the guard in the cellblock to get help to Mac Taylor now.

"GET IN THERE NOW!" Flack shouts in anger into the phone, his eyes once again glued to the screen, watching his helpless friend and vowing revenge on the three men that are now poised to do something vile.

"Mac! Oh what the hell have I done?" Flack's voice dies out in misery as he bolts for the door after Stella; the other guards rushing for Mac's location.

* * *

**A/N:** Well I have assured you all that Mac isn't a victim and he won't be (hope you all believe me), but since readership has dropped so much am considering just wrapping this story in the next chapter. This is the darkest chapter of the fic (wasn't meaning to offend anyone) and now the rescue and healing process would begin but maybe the end in 6? Sorry if this chapter was too long; just so much to pack into it and didn't know where to break. Please leave me a review before you go and thanks at least for reading to this point.


	6. From one Nightmare to Another

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 6 - From one Nightmare to Another**

**A/N: **Well thank you all for the kind words to continue so I am going to press on. Please remember my intent isn't to offend, so I humbly apologize if I have in any way. The muse kinda lost heart a bit so if it seems weak in places you'll know why but thanks for the encouraging comments, they truly do help a lot and I hope I haven't let anyone down. I know a lot have asked for happy moments and I will try my best to infuse into this story and hope you can find them amongst the angst but remember this isn't a fluffy story it's an angsty story.

BTW the warden's name is the same one from 6.19 'redemption'. Dr. Adams is my own OC from my other stories.

* * *

"Mac...oh my god Mac..." Stella's voice chants over and over again as she didn't think twice about waiting for Don; knowing her friend will be right behind her as soon as he makes the call for help. Frantic tears stream down her face as she tries to force the image of Mac, wrists cuffed and tied overhead, clothes cut away and helpless before three men who want to violate him.

"Damn it move!" She shouts to the traffic ahead of her; the flashing red and blue not doing much to aid her in her quest to get to her husbands side. "Mac is going to be fine...he's going to be just fine...damn it!" She curses as her voice breaks; her fist hitting the steering wheel in angry frustration. Her mind hears Mac calling to her for help once again; her throat unable to swallow back the lump of panic stricken anxiety that has now formed.

"He called to me...he was in trouble...why did he do this...Mac...please god let him be okay."

XXXXXXXX

"We like black Mark," Wicks smiles as Mac tries to pull himself out of their grasp once more.

"HELP ME!" Mac shouts again, pulling upward on the ropes and trying to kick at Wicks. Wicks simply sidesteps his lunge and stuffs the cloth into his mouth, before patting him again on his flushed cheek, his face still sandwiched between his captive arms that are tied painfully in the air.

"No one to hear you now Mark; no one coming to help you. Which side do you want George?"

"I think you know my preference Maurice," George answers.

"Don't be shy Mark, we have already seen all that you have to offer."

_HELP_! Mac yells in vain; his lungs dry and raw, his chest heaving and his body still buckling with fear.

"And you have a lot to offer. We are all going to enjoy this. I think even more than the others."

"The others weren't as exciting as you."

"Trust me you will too. Like the sounds Mark."

"Very much a turn on. I think you are starting to get turned on also."

_HELP...OH GOD HELP ME!_

"You like this Mark?" The merciless taunts and ugly words continue as the men loom closer. "You getting hard?"

_Oh god no...please god no..._he begs as his wrists pull and cut against the thick steel. He watches Wicks slowly circle him, standing behind as George comes to the front; the mask not concealing his identity now that Wicks has offered his name on tape.

"It's time Mark," Wicks whispers in his ear. "Time for FUN!"

Mac closes his watery eyes, his heart about to give way; his body expending every single amount of energy and adrenaline it can muster; anything to keep his dark future from being realized. He feels Wicks fingers start to tug on the back of his underwear and then stop and the world seems to come to a painful halt.

The door busts open.

Wicks steps back.

Four armed guards rush in; one for the guard, two for Wicks and one for George. Mac's brain tries to register the flurry of commotion; his chest offering dry heaves and his eyes rapidly trying to blink away anguished tears.

_What the hell is going on? HELP ME!_

His frantic brain remembers Wicks words from earlier, _'more of us than you,'_ and he starts to panic further. His brain registers a man coming for him, but he's unable to distinguish rescuer from destroyer. He kicks out with his bound feed, not caring about the small blood trails slowly trickling down his straining arms from the cuffs; just tells himself he can't give up or give in.

"Detective Taylor, I am here to help," the man says in a kind tone.

Mac shakes his head no, remembering the guard who delivered him here said the same words so he continues to kick and struggle; yelling into the gag, his heart nearing critical.

"Detective Taylor, please," the same man begs again. "I am a friend."

"_Detective_! What the hell?" Wicks shouts as he struggles in the grasp of the two guards trying to arrest him; just as the Prison Warden rushes in. "That son of a bitch is a cop? A damn cop! Undercover?"

"Take Maurice Wicks and George Batt to be booked!" Warden Ollenstein orders. "Now!"

"You can't do this!" Wicks growls as he looks at Mac's captive frame. "This isn't over _Detective Taylor_!" He shouts. "I swear I am going to kill you. I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"

"Get him out of here!" The warden orders as both Wicks and George are finally pulled from the room; leaving Mac alone with two friendly guards.

Mac watches the warden come before him and gently pull the cloth from his mouth; one of the guards already waiting to cut the ropes free, the other one about to cut the ropes from his feet. However, his watery eyes refuse to completely focus and he still continues to move about, hindering his freedom.

"Mac, I'm a friend," Ollenstein slowly removes the cloth from Mac's parched lips. "Wicks and George and the other man were just arrested and will be booked as per Detective Flack's orders. But please you need to allow us to help you down and get you to the hospital. Please let me help you. I swear none of us are going to hurt you."

Mac finally allows the kind words to penetrate his tormented brain and slows in his struggling; thanking god once more as his arms are finally lowered, his feet already free. But just before the ropes on his arms lax entirely, his body falters and he finds himself unable to move.

"We got you," Ollenstein mentions as he and the guard who had freed Mac's feet gently help him over toward a chair. With his prison uniform still ripped in the back and with the sweat rapidly cooling him down, he starts to panic once more when his bare skin connects with the hard plastic.

"Do you want to lie down?" Ollenstein inquires.

"I want to...throw up..." Mac manages in a hoarse whisper.

Ollenstein gestures for a bucket to be brought and as soon as the bucket nears; the guard almost getting his wrists free of the cuffs, Mac throws up bile and liquid into the nearby pail; his eyes offering black circles and the room now rapidly spinning.

"Preserve the knife, the ropes, the mask and the cuffs; everything for evidence and seal off this room. We need to get him to the hospital. Bag the glasses also," Ollenstein directs, not aware that Mac had been wearing them and they were still recording.

"No...no hospitals..." Mac begs softly as his watery eyes locks with the man to his right; his cut wrists merely hanging limply in his lap.

"Detective you look like hell. Your left eye has a nasty cut above it; you probably have a few broken ribs and that purple mark on..." Ollenstein voice dies out a Mac hears the name 'Mark' his undercover name and pushes the Warden backward.

"Can't...go..." he coughs as he tries to stand up. But his body and brain quickly remind him; that as he falls back to his knees, he needs help and won't be walking out on his own. "Ah..." his body cries out in pain.

"Get a stretcher in here now," Ollenstein directs as he reaches for a blanket and puts it over Mac's trembling frame.

"Don't touch me..." Mac whispers.

"What?"

"DON'T TOUCH ME..." he tries again, only to me offered another round of painful coughing for his vain efforts.

"I don't know what you are going through right now, but I am only trying to help and you are shaking badly. The blanket will only keep you warm. You'll go to the hospital as is. Do you have a family doctor?"

Mac's watery eyes remain fixed on the center of the floor; seeing his own image tied up and then violated by the two men and he throws up onto the cold cement once again.

"Sorry," he mumbles in misery.

"Don't be. Leroy, call ahead and see who usually tends to Detective Taylor."

Mac watches the other guard leave and the stretcher enter with two paramedics.

"Is there anyone I can call?"

"No," Mac states in haste. _Stella can't see me like this...she can never know...never see me like this..._

"Are you su..."

"NO ONE!" Mac yells in anger, his chest painfully heaving once again. "I don't...want to...see anyone."

"Okay. Now these men aren't going to hurt you," Ollenstein tells Mac as Mac looks up and then back down, closing his eyes and praying the room will stop spinning and any second he'll wake up from his nightmare and be at home, in his bed, with his wife and all the never happened. _This was my fault...what the hell have I done?_

Once the blanket is removed; Mac feels his body starting to shake once more; mostly from nerves, but he knows they are just heightening the cold sensations. The two paramedics start to lift Mac by his arms but again all his brain will register is two strange men wanting to touch him and he tries to pull away, not caring about the pain his frame is forced to experience.

"Detective they just want to help," Ollenstein tries to assure Mac.

"Don't need..."

"Mac just let them cover you at least. You need the warmth."

With his body rapidly shutting down from fatigue, Mac finally complies and allows them to help him lie down on his side; thankful when the blanket covers his trembling frame once again.

_Can't see Stella...not like this...never like this...she'll hate me..._

Mac's eyes refuse to close, despite the fatigue he is now feeling; his body coursing with pain and his head throbbing. But his brain keeps telling him that he has to stay awake; that if he falls asleep Wicks and George will come back and finish what they started, and in his weakened condition he wouldn't be able to fight them off. He feels a cold blast of air start to blast his flushed and weary face, prompting him to quickly shut his weary eyes to keep the wind out.

"Have to...go home..."

"Sorry Detective we need to get you to the hospital," one of the medics softly mentions as they stop the stretcher. Not knowing the situation but seeing no physical injuries one of them reaches for the strap, intending to prepare Mac for transport. Mac sees the strap approaching and knows he can't be tied down; that would make him helpless and he can't have that, ever again. Despite his cut wrists and aching arms, he starts to wrestle with the medics.

"Detective you need to calm down. We just need to prepare you for transport."

"Should we sedate him?"

"No, just leave him alone," Ollenstein rushes up to them with a heavy frown. "Detective Taylor, its okay. Trust me on this guys, he's okay, but no straps; not this time."

The medics look at each other before one shrugs and lets the strap fall back down. They tell Mac they are just going to give him another blanket because his body is still shaking and that he'll be in for a few bumps but will be okay. Just as the stretcher prepares to enter the warm inner confines of the ambulance, Stella's black Avalanche comes to a screeching halt.

"Mac!" She gasps as she watches him about to enter the ambulance. She wastes no time in pushing herself out of the Avalanche and running for Mac; Don only a few minutes behind her in his cruiser.

"Detective Stella Taylor, let me through," she announces, flashing her badge and rushing toward Mac's stretcher. "Mac!" Stella calls out; offering a small frown when her husband's face doesn't turn to acknowledge her presence. "I'm his wife, I need to see him. Mac!"

"Detective he's been through a lot and we need to get him to the ER. Do you have a family doctor?"

"Dr. Ben Adams," Stella answers as she moves in closer; Mac still not turning to acknowledge her presence. "I'm coming with you."

"NO!" Mac finally shouts, unable to bring himself to look at her.

"But..." Stella starts in confusion as she tries to take a step closer. But when Mac's body starts to thrash about, his actions offering to do him more bodily harm, the paramedic puts up his hand and Stella stops.

"He's been through a lot."

"Please I need to see him."

"No," Mac states again.

"I'm sorry I have to do what's best for him," the paramedic states with a slight frown. "We'll take him to Dr. Adams. You can follow if you'd like."

"I love you Mac," Stella blurts out, not caring who is watching, listening or looking. She watches Mac simply squeeze his eyes shut, his hands pulling the blankets tighter around his lightly curled up frame. "I'll meet you there," she offers in a sad whisper, standing fixed in time until Mac is finally wheeled into the back of the ambulance and the door slammed shut. In fact she doesn't move from place until she feels Flack's fingers on her shoulder.

"What the hell happened tonight Don?" She turns and asks with a tormented expression; her eyes wet and her posture tense.; giving him a firm hug.

"I'm going to go and find out for sure. I'll deal with Wicks and whoever else was involved in that room and I'll call you later," Flack pulls away and tells her firmly.

"He didn't want to see me," Stella utters in misery.

"He's alive Stella, that's what matters right now."

"Tell me what you find," she mentions without looking at Flack, her eyes locked on the flashing red and white lights of the ambulance as it finally disappears from view. "Oh Mac..." her voice dies out as she turns and heads for the Avalanche, getting back inside and racing after her husband. She shakes her head, willing the tormented images of her helpless husband to fade but they won't; tonight was going to be long and fraught with sleepless misery for both of them.

XXXXXXXX

Mac keeps his watery eyes fixed on the small instrument panel in front of him while one of the medics tends to his chewed up wrists.

"Can't imagine what caused this," one of the medics mentions as they gently clean the torn up skin. Mac closes his eyes, praying for the tears to stop and trying to swallow a large dry lump in his throat; having no saliva to ease some of the discomfort, it having been well over twenty-four hours since he last had food and drink.

He offers a small cry of pain as the medic starts to disinfect the bloody flesh, quickly pulling his wrists back but then allowing it to be taken once again to be finished with. Once both wrists are cleaned and wrapped with a soft bandage, Mac pulls them back under the blanket, his eyes still fixed on the panel before him. They finally arrive at the entrance to the ER and Mac feels his anxiety once again starting to skyrocket; his heart now offering only a painful thud underneath is throbbing rib cage.

"Don't need..." he tries; his voice hoarse and almost gone, his throat raw and his lungs dry.

"Just relax," one of the medics gently places his hand on Mac's shoulder. "You can barely stand."

"I'M NOT WEAK!" Mac shouts angrily, jerking his shoulder away.

"I meant no offense," the medic sighs as he helps his partner lower the stretcher to the ground and then carefully wheel their precious cargo into the waiting doors of the ER; Dr. Adams pacing with a nervous frown. He had gotten the call from Stella and was told only that Mac was in a severe state of shock and that he had survived hell. To what extent he would soon learn.

"Mac? Can you hear me?" Dr. Adams asks in a soft tone as he hurries up to Mac's side and gently touches his covered arm.

Mac quickly flinches but slightly twists his head to offer Dr. Adams a small nod and then looks back down.

"Want to walk the rest of the way?" Dr. Adams asks Mac as he looks at a dark bruise on his cheek. "They'll help you if you need it."

"I don't want to be touched!" Mac answers sharply.

"I understand."

After getting their instructions, the two medics wheel Mac into a private room and then leave; Dr. Adams gently closing the door and leaning against it with a heavy sigh. "Do you want me to get Stella?"

"No," Mac answers in haste.

"Mac, she's your wife and..."

"I SAID NO!" Mac growls before his stomach starts to heave once more, prompting him to move his head over the edge of the stretcher and throw up bile once more. "She can't see me...can't...not like this," he manages weakly as Dr. Adams hurries to clean up the cloudy liquid. He finishes and then sits down beside Mac.

"Want to tell me what happened?" Dr. Adams asks in a soft tone, his eyes studying the condition of Mac's face.

"No."

"Might make you feel better."

"NO!" Mac tries again, his lungs gasping for air.

"Okay but every time you move, speak or breathe you wince, I need to look you over."

"I'm...fine."

"Mac..."

"GO AWAY! Just...I want to be alone," Mac offers in protest.

"If you have broken ribs that could be poking into vital organs and you are bleeding internally then we could have a serious problem."

"I don't care."

"Stella will."

"I don't want to see her."

"Mac, whatever happened to you tonight, I'm guessing was pretty traumatic and judging by the shape you're in, involved one hell of a fight. However, you have been in fights before, one that has even broken limbs and you've never reacted like this; so I am guessing that this fight was one sided?"

Mac's lips emit a heavy sigh before he slowly nods his head in agreement.

"And there was two or three?" Dr. Adams inquires to which Mac simply nods an affirmative reply. Dr. Adams looks at Mac in remorse. "And you couldn't fight back?"

"I want to go."

"Home? Want me to call Stella?"

"No, I don't want to see her. I just want to go."

"Where?"

"I don't care."

"Mac, you are suffering from severe post traumatic stress disorder; your eyes are glassy and hardly blink, your body is shaking, your skin clammy in places and on fire in others; and it's very obvious from your physical state that you have endured something vile. But I really would like to at leave give you a once over. Anything broken?"

"Shoulder hurts."

Dr. Adams slowly stands up and very carefully peels back the blanket. However, when he reaches Mac's elbow he stops, noticing the front of the orange overalls in tact but the back along with his sweat soaked undershirt has been sliced open.

"I um..." Dr. Adams starts as he pulls the blanket back a little bit more. He finally notices Mac's black underwear and then flinches when Mac's arms quickly pull the blanket back over him.

"Right so...I guess there is no easy way to ask this. Were you assaulted? Do I need to run a..."

"No time," Mac utters in quiet misery, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to erase Wicks face and laughter from his mind. "I want a shower."

"What?"

"A shower...want to get them off me. Wicks I want him off me...oh god I want him off me."

"Do you need me to collect anything? Want me to get Stella to do it? I'm sure she's almost here by now."

"No. I don't want to see her."

"Mac..."

"NO!" Mac shouts before he slumps his sweaty head back down in anger.

"Okay. Let me get started. Please Mac? Just a quick once over and then you can rest for as long as you want."

Mac finally numbly submits to Dr. Adams wishes; allowing the older man to take the scrapings from under his nails and anything else that had transferred from his captors onto the front of his prison uniform; Mac not allowing him to go behind him at any time during his examination.

"Can I remove the blanket?"

"No."

"Mac I need to see if you have dark bruising on your chest, it could indicate..."

"I said NO!" Mac growls as he looks away in angry frustration.

"I know most survivors think tha..."

"Don't you mean victim?" Mac retorts bitterly.

"Are you a victim? Were you sexually assaulted?"

"No."

"Then you are a survivor Mac; you know that," Dr. Adams assures him. "But sometimes, especially men in this situation won't allow themselves to be examined out of shame or embarrassment. Trust me Mac, it stays with me. Were you..."

"I wasn't raped...there wasn't time," Mac insists once again as his eyes continue to water. "No time..."

"And if you have a shower, you won't be washing away anything valuable? You know better than I do how delicate that kind of evidence is."

"Need me to sit up to prove I'm not lying?" Mac snaps harshly.

Dr. Adams looks at Mac and shakes his head; knowing that to argue further would only do more harm than good. "Can I at least look at your face and tend to the cut above your eye? Please Mac I need to help you; it pains me young man to see you like this. You are about to get blood in your eye. Let me clean it. Please Mac?"

Mac finally nods his head and then slowly twists his face so that Dr. Adams can looks at him full on. Dr. Adams offers Mac a small frown and a heavy sigh before he gets what he needs and then very gently starts to clean Mac's face. After he finishes with the bandage a soft knock is finally heard at the door.

"Stella!" Mac lightly gulps as he tries to push Dr. Adams away. "I don't want to see her."

"Why not?"

"I just don't!"

"Mac, if you don't want her to come in here, she won't," Dr. Adams assures him. "But I need to go and talk to her. I'll be right back."

"I can't see her like this."

"Mac she loves you and is strong. You'll need her to..."

"I don't want to see her!" Mac shouts.

XXXXXXXX

Stella hears Mac's angry words to Dr. Adams and feels her stomach tighten once more, her fists clenched tightly at her waist. She quickly swallows back her misery, blinking rapidly so that fresh tears don't form and tries to put on a brave face when their friend and family doctor heads toward her; closing the door to where her husband is now being kept.

"Ben? How is he? I need to see him," Stella rambles off nervously.

"Come with me Stella," Dr. Adams directs her to a quieter area, a few feet down from the room in the ER where Mac was still waiting.

"Ben just tell me straight, what happened?"

"He's been through a lot and is in a severe state of shock. From the small bits that he told me, he was attacked, subdued, unable to fight back and took a real beating."

"Oh god..." Stella lightly curses, her voice quivering and her heart racing at what was still to come. "I saw parts and...yes that's true but..."

"He's suffered, from what I could tell initially, a dislocated shoulder, a fractured wrist, probably a few cracked, possibly broken ribs and..."

"Was he um...assaulted? Did he tell you that?"

"He says no."

"Do you believe him?"

"Stella, I have dealt with male sexual assault and although he's in severe shock and pain, I think he's telling the truth. I'll know more once I give him a complete once over."

"I need to see him."

"He's in a rough state right now Stella. Now it's not uncommon for a survivor, especially a man, to lie to save face. He feels different. He thinks of himself as different. And he believes _you_ will think him different."

"I would never," Stella insists.

"I know that but he just needs time to see that once again."

"How um...how much time?"

"Stella, I wish I could answer that but I can't. I know Mac knows the value of evidence and...well I just hope that...he wouldn't let me examine him in a um...well a private way or run a rape kit."

"He can't...I mean I just..."

"Stella..."

"I know that my actions will play a big role but...I need to see him. Ben I have to see him. He can't...oh god this can't be happening...not to Mac."

"Right now he just wants to be alone and I have to grant that wish. He says he wants a shower, so I am going to arrange a private room and help him have a shower. Hopefully I will be able to give him a better once over and then we'll know more. I'm sorry I wish I had something more positive to tell you but..."

"He's alive Ben, that's the best news right now," Stella answers numbly as she leans back in her chair. "I love him Ben, I won't give up on him, ever. I am not leaving tonight; I'm staying right here. I love him...I love him so much."

"Stella he needs his rest."

"Ben, I'm not leaving and that's final; I'll sleep in the hallway if I have to."

"I thought you would want to stay and I'm glad to hear it. He'll need reassurance of that love but right now we need to let him dictate his actions; he needs to feel in control of himself once again. If he was attacked and subdued to the extent he implies then he'll be battling feelings of helplessness and self pity for a while yet. He needs to tell us what to do and we need to listen; within reason."

"What do you mean within reason?"

"We'll talk more about that later. I'll get Jenny to get a room set up and I'll go and see him. Remember Stella, it's not you personally he's rejecting, I know Mac loves you more than anything. He's striking out because he feels lost and afraid and..."

"Not Mac...not afraid...Mac's never been afraid in his life."

"He's never faced a fear like this before either, has he?" Dr. Adams counters. "Tonight and maybe for a few more, he's going to be angry and withdrawn; he'll try to push you away and tell you to leave him alone. He'll have nightmares, he'll curse, he'll yell, he'll do whatever he has to try to expel the demons in his head. If he throws up just let him and offer an ice chip for his lips or some water to rinse his mouth but allow the IV to help his system. It's going to be a rough go. That is normal and it's all he knows right now how to protect himself."

"By being alone?"

"By being in control," Dr. Adams answers. "Sadly for Mac, raised and trained as a strong man who became a soldier, being in control has been a way of life for him; that's what he's known since birth. Now another man has forcibly taken that control away and nearly forced him to experience something terrible; something he couldn't control. He needs to get that control back and he'll do what he can to get it."

"Why, by being alone?" Stella inquires again.

"Inside he doesn't want to be alone. He's been strong all his life and now he's faced with a temporary setback so he won't know what to do. Just be patient and kind and loving, things I know you are. This is a whole new game for all of us. But we are going to take it slow and be there with him every step and you'll see, he will emerge stronger than he was before."

"I can't lose him Ben."

"You won't Stella, I promise. I have some information on PTSD that I will give you both to read but it's things you already know in your line of work and um...well from past experience; so that you are aware and can prepare yourself for what is to come in the days and weeks; possibly months to come."

"Months?"

"I'll go and get that room started. Let's at least get him settled for the night and we can talk more later. If he wants to go home that will be the best thing; but I am guessing that he'll just want the nearest bed and hopefully pass into sleep; a few hours would be ideal. I have a feeling he's going to have a shower and just pass out from exhaustion."

Stella stands up and offers Dr. Adams a hug before watching him leave. Once he's back in the room with Mac, she slowly sags to the chair, folds her arms over her knees and cries. "Oh Mac...I love you so much. You have to believe that."

XXXXXXXX

Mac hears Stella's soft cries and feels his heart ache further, but knows he cannot face her in his condition. _I couldn't fight back...I always fight back...she'll think me weak..._

He watches Dr. Adams come back into the room and close the door, leaning against it and looking at Mac in concern.

"She loves you Mac and is very worried. But I do need to get you out of those cloths and into something warmer and drier."

"I want a shower," Mac mentions in a soft tone.

"Want me to help you?"

"I don't need help!" Mac snaps as he tries to sit up. But due to lack of food and water; his system's energy and adrenaline completely depleted he starts to falter, an instant head rush furthering offering a picture of weakness and fatigue.

"I got you," Dr. Adams states as he gently grabs Mac's uninjured shoulder and helps him sit back up. With all his experience he knows that if a man was just forcibly sexually assaulted, sitting would be the last thing he would want to do; Mac's discomfort was coming from his chest, not his backside. He is telling the truth.

"What?" Mac asks bitterly. "Think me pathetic?"

"That's shock talking Mac, you know I think you are one of the strongest men I know."

"Ha," Mac snides as he looks away, his head pounding and his eyes still having trouble focusing. But when he tries to move his shoulder, he offers a small gasp of pain and quickly subsides his painful actions.

"Mac you have Anterior dislocation. I need to put it back into place. It will hurt at first and then..."

"I just want a shower...please Ben, I need to get them off me," Mac begs in misery.

"Who Mac? What happened?"

"I just need a shower," he whispers in sorrow.

"Can you stand up for me? Please?"

Mac knows that he's going to have to stand if he wants to walk to the showers on his own and so with his uninjured arm, braces himself and then slowly slides off the table, leaning back against it. Dr. Adams starts to examine the area around his shoulder and after giving Mac a few instructions, fixes his shoulder and then allows Mac a few more moments to recover.

"Sorry. You okay?"

"Fine."

"Can I just examine your chest? Either that or I can send you for x-rays? Which I probably will do tomorrow."

"I want a sho..."

"Mac..."

"I JUST WANT A DAMN SHOWER!"

"Okay. Do you want Stella to help you?"

"No, I want to be alone."

"You can't be alone Mac. You are also suffering from severe hydration and can hardly stand."

"I'm not weak!"

"If you were to fall," Dr. Adams presses on in a kind tone as he slowly puts a hospital gown over Mac's back, covering him, "and no one was there you would do a lot more damage, hit your head or..."

"I don't care, I want to be alone."

"When did you eat or drink last?"

"A few days ago."

"You need..."

"I want to be alone!"

Knowing it's pointless to argue right now, Dr. Adams offers Mac a kind nod and then offers his arm which Mac looks at before turning away. But sensing that Dr. Adams isn't going to leave, Mac slowly takes the lifeline that is being offered and allow Dr. Adams to help him out another door, into the back; away from the general public and his wife.

Mac feels his anxiety starting to skyrocket once again as a few people turn to look at the rough looking man wearing the torn prison uniform.

"I hate this."

"They don't know you Mac, but you are wearing orange," Dr. Adams lightly quips.

Mac's mind races with terror as they near the doors to the shower area; his mind once again bouncing back a few days to when Wicks forced him into the so called _private _shower area; where he could feel their eyes watching him in his most vulnerable state.

_'Have already seen all you have to offer...'_

"Can't do this..."

"But you wanted a sh..."

"I CAN'T DO THIS!" Mac shouts as he pulls away from Dr. Adams, stumbling a few feet and then crashing to his knees; his lips emitting an angry curse in frustration. But when Dr. Adams doesn't approach, Mac sits back on his heels and looks up in wonder.

"I'm on your time Mac. We'll move when you are ready."

"I can't face Stella like this."

"If I as a friend don't think less, she never will."

"She's going to hate me."

Dr. Adams offers Mac a kind smile before he bends down beside him, not wanting to touch him for fear he'd just set Mac off again.

"I know you are scared and angry and probably royally pissed off at yourself and the world around you. You are not to blame for anything..."

"I let it happen. I knew and..."

"Mac you couldn't have known..."

"I LET IT HAPPEN!" Mac shouts as he pushes Dr. Adams away, landing on his butt due to lack of energy. He offers a small cry of pain, prompting Dr. Adams to look at him in haste. "I did know..."

"Mac?"

"My body hurts, I wasn't raped."

"You sound..."

"I WASN'T...almost but...but I let it happen," his voice dies out as he curls up onto his side on the cold tile floor, his eyes closed in misery and his voice chanting over and over, _'I let it happen.'_

"Let what happen? You said nothing happened."

"The attack...I let it happen..."

Dr. Adams gently brushes away some dirty sweat from Mac's face and offers a concerned glance. It seems like a small eternity before Mac numbly allows Dr. Adams to finally help him back up to a sitting position, Dr. Adams not wanting to rush Mac in any way; wanting Mac to feel he's in control of his actions the entire time.

"The door is locked and no one can get in Mac."

"They can still see me."

"Who?"

"Wicks...and George," his voice offers in a sad whisper. "They can see...the door was locked...I was alone..."

"Mac, I give you my word, no one can see you and when I leave you can lock the door and you will be alone. Do you want Stella to help you?"

"No," Mac barks. "She can't see me like this...never like this."

"Okay we'll move when you are ready."

Mac's eyes start to survey the room around him, his brain telling him to have the shower and get Wicks residue off his skin. Mac finally finishes his survey and then looks at Dr. Adams with a heavy frown.

"Just tell me when to leave."

"Now?"

"Let's stand up," Dr. Adams offers his hand as he slowly pushes himself upright. When Mac is finally steadied on his feet he looks at his face in wonder. "I need to see those chest bruises Mac. You can uznip as far as you want; I'll work with what you give me."

Feeling like he could pass out at any moment, Mac finally starts to slowly unzip his dirty prison uniform, opening it only to his belly button and then allowing his hands to merely hang limply at his sides.

Dr. Adams carefully raises Mac's damp undershirt and offers a small gasp at the dark purplish marks on Mac's smooth chest.

"You'll need a few x-rays Mac," Dr. Adams notes as he slowly lowers Mac's damn shirt. "But we'll do that later. There are fresh towels and some sleeping clothes in that closet. I will lock the door and when you are ready you knock okay? I'll be right outside. But if I don't hear a sound in ten minutes, I'm coming in, just to make sure you are okay. And that is final, otherwise I could be charged with neglect."

Mac offers only a nod and then watches Dr. Adams turn and leave; before allowing another angry curse in Maurice Wicks name to escape his lips. He angrily wipes away fresh tears but finds he's unable to move.

_'We can see you Mark...always with you Mark...in the dark...my face you'll see...'_

"Go away..." Mac tries in a soft whisper.

_'You'll never be free Mark...always with you...always...'_

"GO AWAY!" Mac shouts as he tries to punch at the air. But a sharp pang of searing pain courses down his newly relocated shoulder, forcing him to revert back to his original position. He hears Wicks voice in his head again and heads toward the showers, turning on the hot water and not caring that he's still fully clothed. His voice cries out in frustration as he tries to rip the rest of the uniform off him; but with his strength almost spent, and the damp fabric now heavier, he slumps back against the tiled wall, closing his eyes and letting the water wash over him for what seems like forever.

"Stella..." his lips utter in misery. "You can't see me like this...ever...you'll be ashamed...oh what have I done?"

XXXXXXXX

Stella looks up from her morbid stupor to see Flack rushing toward her; finally offering her a hug and then pulling back in concern.

"Where is he?"

"In with Dr. Adams. Dr. Adams said that he um...well that Mac wasn't assaulted...well all the way."

"Oh thank god," Flack offers in sincerity.

"I think it was close though and...well he said Mac has been through a lot. Dislocated shoulder, fractured wrist, cracked ribs..." her voice trails off as she looks in the direction of the small room. "He didn't want to see me. Don what if...what if he doesn't want to see me again?"

"Don't think like that, Mac loves you and you love him and he's not going to push you away for..."

"He did tonight," she laments. "I know he's concerned and probably scared but...Don no one can see that footage, not even Sinclair. We need to preserve his dignity. What about Adam?"

"I told Adam to cut the feed as soon as I got there. The file is still locked away in Sinclair's office and I'll stop right after I'm done here and pick it up. But Adam hasn't seen anything; he said it was one way feed and was okay with that. Want me to get you guys anything?"

Stella pulls her spare key and hands it to Don. "Something clean for Mac to wear home tomorrow?"

"You hungry?"

"Too nervous to eat," she offers with a heavy sigh. "I just want to feel my husband in my arms."

"I um..."

"What is it Don?"

"Nothing. I'll be bac..."

"Don, tell me."

"I should have been monitoring sooner," Flack grimaces. "If I had been then maybe..."

"Mac will never blame you."

"He'll never have to. I blame myself."

"Don..."

"Okay be back soon."

"No please wait."

"Stella, I half agreed to this stupid thing in the first place! I knew what Wicks had done and...and if they had succeed and Mac was..."

"That didn't happen to Mac."

"I have to go. Sorry, I'll talk to you soon."

Flack offers her one more brief hug and then turns to leave without allowing her to say another word; prompting Stella to turn back and then slowly walk toward the door. She gives it a soft knock but when she hears nothing, not even Dr. Adams voice, she slowly opens the door to find the room empty.

"Mac?" Stella calls out softly as she carefully makes her way into the back, only to be greeted by Jenny, Dr. Adams's nurse.

"Mrs. Taylor? I have that private room ready for you and your husband. Room 3C."

"Thank you Jenny," Stella replies. "Do you know where the showers are?" Stella gets the directions and then heads toward her husband; her stomach tighter than it's always been, his band of gold still blazing against her skin, on the chain around her neck where it has been for the past few days. She nears the entrance to the showers and sees Dr. Adams waiting outside.

"Ben?"

"He's inside; I hear the water and cursing and...and now we wait."

"How is he? Any more um...physical damage?"

"I was able to examine his chest and he has taken quite a beating. I'll try to send him for x-rays later; I just want to make sure the bruises aren't the result of internal injuries. He's also severely dehydrated; he said he hasn't eaten or had anything to drink for a few days. But that could also be shock talking. Tonight is going to be rough but it's the first hurdle."

Stella turns her gaze back toward the locked door of the shower room; her mind not being able to comprehend what Mac must be feeling or thinking right now; all she knows is she wants to hold him and make sure he knows just how much she loves him. _No food or drink for a few days? _What the hell?

"I want to help him."

"Patience tonight is what will be needed most. That and a thick skin."

"I have both plus my love for him. I'm not going to turn away from him Ben. I don't care how hard he tries to push me away."

"He'll need that strength Stella; you both will."

"So now what?"

"Now we wait until he opens that door. It's up to him now."

XXXXXXXX

Mac had finally gotten the soggy orange uniform off, tugging his torn undershirt off and then finally his underwear, his body weakened from the beating and fatigue but his mind still racing with panicked thoughts. He reaches for the soap, hoping to scrub away the image of Maurice Wicks, the feel of his hands on his bare skin, the feel of his warm breath on his flushed face and erase the words that he fears will haunt him forever.

_'I'll always be with you...'_

"No..." Mac tries again, squeezing his eyes shut until they hurt and he has to open them, once again resting his head foreword on the now warm tiles and praying for the dark circles to disappear. When they finally do and Mac feels himself getting lightheaded he knows it's time to find some place to lie down and pray that when he wakes up next, this horrific nightmare will be over.

He slowly turns the water off and then heads for a towel, stuffing his water soaked clothing into a nearby waste basket and then quickly drying himself off. He frowns at the flimsy hospital offerings but know he has no other choice until he's given something of his own to wear. But that would mean facing Stella.

"I can't face her like this..." Mac mumbles to himself as he slowly reaches for another hospital robe, pulling the second robe around his weary frame and holding it close. When he was covered to his liking he slowly heads for the door, his mind and heart now racing in anticipation. "Can't see her...not like this..."

"Stella can wait at home tonight," he mumbles once again, his throat dry and hoarse. His fingers slowly curl around the door handle as he knocks. He hears Dr. Adams opening the lock and then he pulls. He opens the door and peers out, coming face to face with the beautiful face of his concerned wife.

"Mac?" Stella asks softly.

"I don't want..." he starts sharply; his head pounding, dark circles forming and his body shutting down rapidly by the second.

"Stella..." is all he manages before his world goes black.

"Mac!"

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks so much everyone for sticking with this story. Hope it didn't offend anyone and you all want to see the rest of Mac's recovery process and of course how Stella's love and strength helps him along the way. How will Mac react when he wakes up? How will their first night be? And what happens to Wicks? Please let me know what you thought of this chapter and yes I am still nervous about this story. Thanks again!


	7. The Longest Night

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 7 - The Longest Night**

**A/N: **Thanks so much everyone. This chapter is a 'bit' shorter than the others so hope that's okay. And yes I am posting this earlier than expected b/c I have the funeral tonight (hence my temporary profile) and not sure if I could get through this much angst afterward. So hope this chapter is okay and you still like it.

* * *

Stella feels her heart rate instantly sky rocket as soon as Mac's soft knock is heard at the door; telling herself that Mac is going to look like hell and probably tell her he doesn't want to see her. She just wasn't prepared for the condition he would be in. As soon as he pushes the door all the way open, she's able to see exactly how terrible he actually looks.

He has a nasty cut, now banged above his eye; but the skin around it is still dark and bruised. His lips are cut and his right cheek has a cut and bruise. His appearance looks weaker but it's the look of abject remorse and utter defeat that he is offering as soon as their eyes lock.

"Mac?" She asks in a soft whisper.

His expression turns cross, but just as her name escapes his lips she watches in horror as he finally loses the battle with consciousness and starts to fall forward. Both her and Dr. Adams rush to his side, catching his limp frame just before it can crash onto the floor, thus ensuring no further injuries are sustained.

"Transfer bed!" Dr. Adams calls out as Stella gently cradles her husbands head on her lap.

"Mac..." Stella whispers in sorrow as she brushes some damp strands off his forehead.

"While he's at rest I am going to take him right now to x-rays and get them taken. I need you to sign a form," Dr. Adams tells her in haste. "Hopefully this faint was from fatigue but if he has internal injuries I need to know."

"Of course," is all Stella can manage as she watches the stretcher arrive and then helps load Mac onto the soft bed and helps to cover him with a blanket. She numbly walks beside him, half listening to Dr. Adams talking to Jenny, his nurse; giving her instructions, and half telling herself that Mac is just tired and he won't need surgery. She stands in the waiting area as Mac is taken behind the doors to the x-ray room; slowly pacing and telling herself that Mac is going to be okay.

_Do I call Millie? Do I tell Sinclair? What do I ask him? He can't keep it all inside. _Her mind races with so many questions; her heart wanting to forever erase the image that she was first offered after a few days of his absence.

_'Stella!' _She closes her eyes as she hears his voice calling to her for help. "Mac..." she laments in torment as she opens them and quickly brushes away fresh tears. "Why Mac...why the hell did you do this," she scolds. But she reminds herself that as mad as she is at him for putting himself willingly in harms way; the fact that he experienced hell tonight forces her to keep those negative thoughts inside.

"I can't tell him that...it'll only hurt him more," she ponders as she continues her pacing. She feels her phone buzz and quickly reaches for it; reading Flack's message in haste.

_'Stella, got the footage and it's secure, only you and I have seen the most recent; and I haven't had time to see the rest. I just called Sinclair and told him that Mac has been pulled as his cover was compromised by a guard and am looking for Ron Knight to get his statement. Apparently he was moved by Maurice Wicks. I hope he's alive. Found the guy with the Celtic tattoo, Bart and he's dead. I have a few more things to do and then will stop by with Mac's stuff; Jessica is making a care package now. Be strong. Talk soon Don.'_

Stella offers the message a weak smile as she puts her phone away and then watches as Mac's stretcher bed is wheeled back out with his unconscious frame still on top.

"A few broken ribs as I suspected but that's it and I'm going to try to wrap those right now; I'll get two people to help me. He won't need surgery. Do you want to wait or head up to the room? He's in no shape to go home tonight."

"I'm not letting him out of my sight for longer than I have to," Stella states firmly to which Dr. Adams offers her a kind look of understanding.

"It won't take too long."

Stella slowly follows beside Mac, her fingers gently brushing his rough face; the side without the cut and her heart aches each time his face lightly crunches with pain; her brain not even able to imagine the nightmares he would be having tonight or the nights to come. She hovers at the end of the room where two male nurses are now trying to help Mac with his hospital gown.

However, Mac's eyes finally open and all he sees are two strange men hovering over him with placid expressions as their hands start to undress him.

"HELP...me," Mac starts in a shout, his voice dying out into a hoarse cough, his chest heaving and his broken ribs knitting with each painful gasp. "Don't...TOUCH ME," he tries as his arms shoot out; both men instantly stepping back at Dr. Adams orders.

"Mac, it's okay," Dr. Adams tries in haste as he rushes in to help Mac's frantic eyes focus on him. "Mac look at me," Dr. Adams gently instructs. "This was my fault. You were out and Stella said..."

"I DON'T WANT...her...here," he coughs again as he slumps back down in miserable defeat.

"Does your chest hurt?"

"Yes," Mac resigns.

"Mac you have four broken ribs and they are poking into your lungs. I was going to wrap them so they could try to heal properly. Now that you are awake do you mind if I do that now?"

"Alone."

"Mac?"

"ALONE!" Mac growls, coughing once again, his voice almost gone.

"Save your voice, I'll do it alone," Dr. Adams assures him as he turns and looks at Stella with a weak expression.

"I'll um...I'll wait outside," Stella manages softly.

"Go...home Stella," Mac barks, not able to actually bring himself to look at Stella in the eye. _She can't see me like this...can't see me weak...god why me...why this._

Stella turns and heads outside, tears unable to be contained as she hears the door close behind her.

"Mrs. Taylor, do you need something else?" Jenny asks softly.

"I need my husband...I need to hold him and tell him it's okay," her words end in a soft whisper as she looks away in misery. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Jenny's hand rests on Stella's shoulder. "But if you need anything just have me paged."

"Thank you," Stella answers as she turns back to the door and then looks at it and frowns. "Sorry Mac, I don't care how long you are in here, I'm going to be here with you every second."

With that she turns and heads for his private room, wanting to get herself prepared for the night; although she knows in truth, neither of them will get a minute of sleep.

"Mac, you know she's as stubborn as you right?"

"She...needs to...leave," Mac groans as he allows Dr. Adams to slowly help him sit up.

"I know you think that's best and what you really want; but trust me I know you don't. Inside I know you want her to stay and I know you need her love."

"I don't want...her to see...me like this," he manages with another cough.

"Just rest your lungs Mac. I'll get you a hydration IV when we get up to the room. I won't attempt food right now as I think with more nightmares to come you'll just want to throw up."

"Thanks," Mac's face offers a grimace as Dr. Adams starts to wrap the tensor bandages around his bruised chest.

"She can't...see me...like this."

"Just a few bruises Mac, they'll heal."

"I mean weak," he looks down in remorse.

Dr. Adams gently lifts his chin and offers the younger man before him a kind smile. "If you were weak Mac you wouldn't have fought as hard as I think you did. A weaker man would have given in; accepted his fate."

"I couldn't...fight back," he laments.

"Your fractured wrist tells me otherwise. Now how does that feel? Too tight?"

"No. It's fine," Mac states with a heavy sigh as he watches Dr. Adams walk to the door and peer out. "Is she um..."

"She's not there Mac."

Mac slightly strains his head to see past Dr. Adams and instantly feels an inner remorse starting to consume him. His brain tries to grapple with the idea that he could possibly be spending one of the worst nights of his adult life all alone and in a strange place; but on the other hand he doesn't want Stella to see him in such a pitiful condition. Dr. Adams offers him another blanket, his body once again easing in it's trembling and then tells Mac that he's going to take him to his private room.

Mac's eyes nervously dart around, wondering if anyone he knows will see; will see and wonder as to the real reason he's in such a condition. Dr. Adams softly talks to Jenny about getting the IV hooked up and a few more instructions about a liquid food supplement for strength and then some pain medication.

"I won't lie to you Mac, tonight is going to be a rough go. With your system being as weak as it is right now, I don't want to give you too many drugs. You will have nightmares, but you just need to work through them and then rest when you can. I know you are strong but you are not going into work tomorrow."

"Just want to be alone," Mac mumbles with a slight frown, trying to shake the image of Maurice Wicks smiling face from before his eyes. He watches as he's slowly wheeled into his dimly lit room; Stella is not there. Dr. Adams helps Mac settle into the bed, once again watching to see if Mac was telling the truth about the assault. But having dealt with male rape victims before, Mac's actions do confirm that while he did suffer a horrendous attack, he wasn't forcibly assaulted.

"Hold on a sec Mac," Dr. Adams states softly as he brings Mac another blanket. "I am going to start you on a fluid IV and in a few hours if you haven't thrown anything up, a nutrition supplement."

"I don't ne..."

"Yes Mac you do, and this I will not back down on. You have no saliva and for you to try to take in enough fluids through your lungs right now would only do more harm than good. You need your strength. It won't hurt."

Mac simply offers a nod and then closes his eyes as the small needle penetrates his skin. After getting a few instructions for the night from Dr. Adams he watches the older man leave and then once again is forced to listen to the suffocating silence of the empty room. He keeps trying to tell himself that he doesn't need Stella right now, can't face her until he's able to stand up without help, without a grimace and without the awful memory of a man touching him, tying him down and trying to violate him in a most horrific way. But as his brain starts to be assaulted by the sounds of his rapidly beating heart, shallow breathing and lone tears hitting the linoleum floor, his heart longs for his wife.

"Need to be alone," he utters in quiet misery, his voice barely a whisper and painful to speak.

"Don't try to talk Mac, just rest now," Stella's warm voice breaks the silence, prompting Mac to quickly look in her direction and offer a frown instead of a smile.

"Stella.."

"Dr. Adams said you would want to push me away but I can't go Mac...I can't go home alone...I've um...I've been alone for the past..."

"I want to be alone," Mac mentions in a tired whisper.

"Mac..."

"GO...AWAY!" Mac coughs, his chest now heaving and his eyes watering. Stella takes a step closer but then quickly stops when Mac looks at her with an angry expression.

"I'm not leaving!"

"I want to...be alone," Mac laments, swallowing back his anger, the fluids finally starting to offer a small amount of saliva.

"Fine," Stella resigns as she turns around. But once again, much to Mac's surprise Stella, simply takes off her jacket, hangs it up and then slowly eases herself down into the mobile sleeping bed/chair a few feet from Mac's bed. She offers him a kind smile and then looks down, trying to keep her sad whimpers to a minimum.

Mac hears her soft cries and feels his stomach tighten once again. "Stella...please I just need..."

"Good night Mac."

"Go..."

"No."

"GO...AWAY," he violently coughs once more before slumping back in angry defeat. "Why?"

"Are you serious?" Stella asks lightly. "I love you Mac," her voice breaks as silent tears slowly fall, her fingers unable and now unwilling to brush them away. "I don't want to leave. Not ever."

"I want...to be...alone," he mentions again before he leans his head back down, turning away from her as his eyes water once more; his lungs lightly gasping for air. With his back to her, Mac feels new feelings of guilt starting to consume him; his mind just wishing that she'd go home and come back in the morning, that he would be better, that he would wake up from this nightmare and be the same man he was a few days ago.

_This is my fault..._his brain falsely laments. _I volunteered for this...this is what I deserved._

Stella's eyes fix on Mac's slightly trembling frame, unable to look away from the sad state her husband is in; her heart breaking with every labored breath he fills the quiet room with. Her fingers slowly reach for his wedding band, still held carefully on a chain around her neck and she holds on to it so tightly that after a few minutes she needs to relax her fingers.

_Mac...I love you so much, _her mind tries to call out to him; her eyes blinking away fresh tears when only a void is returned. _I'm not leaving...never leaving..._

She watches his body start to sag a bit further and then finally his breathing starts to slow and she hopes and prays that he'll at least be able to get in a solid hour of sleep. She would be wrong; no solid rest was to be had for either of them in the hours of the long night ahead.

_'Nice ass Mark...we like you gagged Mark...you are here to pleasure me Mark...I'LL ALWAYS BE WITH YOU.'_

"NO!" Mac shouts as he watches Wicks face lean in closer before he's attacked once more; his eyes quickly snapping open as his body thrashes about with the IV tubing and the blankets. Stella quickly pulls herself from her sleepy stupor and rushes to his side.

But once again all Mac sees is two hands reaching for him and he lashes out, pushing her backward and causing her to stumble, nearly losing her footing but grabbing onto the edge of the mobile sleeping bed before she could take a real tumble.

Mac quickly brushes away water from his eyes and looks at her in remorse. "Go home," he barks in sorrow.

"I only wanted to help you."

"I don't need...your pity!" Mac grumbles as he tries to straighten the bent tubing.

"Good because you aren't getting it. I just want to he..."

"Let me...do it," Mac pushes her away again and then slumps his damp head back onto the pillow in defeat. "I don't...want you here."

"Mac..."

"Please Stella...not like this."

"How then?"

"When I'm...just not like this."

"But..."

"GO...AW," he tries again and then stops to let the coughing subside and his lungs try to get some oxygen back into them.

Without saying another word Stella walks up to him and kneels down before his face; his back had previously been to her. She wants to touch him; her heart desperate for even one second of their skin melding together as one. But as she makes a move for her own body, he flinches and she stops her actions.

"I um..." she starts and then stops, unable to get even the softest word to pass her lips; her words frozen inside her heart and unable to tell him right now how much she loves him, needs him and just wants to hold him in her grasp. But she decides on something else.

She shows him his wedding band as she removes it from the chain around her neck, kissing the circle of gold and then slowly pushing it up his finger.

"I love you Mac Taylor, no matter what. Just never...forget that," her voice breaks again; Mac closing his eyes in sorrow. "Just try to rest."

Mac's eyes fix on the band of gold on his finger; his lips unable to offer the sentiment in his heart; he loves her and needs her, he just can't tell her he's afraid to be weak in her eyes; not wanting to let her down. _She can't mean that...she's just being kind, _he falsely reasons. _A man touched me...I couldn't stop him..._ his breathing starts to shallow as his brain flashes back to when he was held in George's grasp, his wrists cuffed behind his back and his words stopped by the cloth in his mouth; and then Wicks was able to do his damage.

"Can't...do this," he mumbles as his eyes flash Wicks face before him once more.

"Get...away," Mac's arm pushes out, willing the image to fade. But all that remains is Wicks smiling face and soon his heart starts to race once more; his core still enflamed.

"Go..." Mac tries again as he pushes out with his arm once more; his brain wanting more than anything to clear the mocking laughter that still echoes in his ears.

"Get...away from ME!" Mac shouts as he lunges at the image; forcing Stella to offer a small gasp from her lips as his weary frame crashes to the floor, yanking the IV tubing from the needle that tugs at his skin but doesn't pull out. Mac's lips offer a painful outcry as his knees connect oddly and his already injured wrist sustains a quarter of his body's weight the other appendages absorbing the rest.

Mac senses Stella approaching and tries to pull away but once again gets caught in the tubing and hospital blanket and just slumps down on his side in defeat.

"Mac!"

"Stella...please...just go," he begs in misery.

"I'm not...going anywhere Mac," Stella tells him as she tries to untangle some of the tubing so he can get up again.

"GO!" Mac shouts as he coughs again, his eyes watery and begging her for something; anything to give him a break and just leave him alone. "You don't understand," Mac starts in a soft whisper.

"Want to tell me?" Stella kneels down beside him, her body tense but kept in place.

"No."

"Okay but I'll be here when you want to talk," she states as she slowly unfolds her body and sits down on the cold floor, not caring about being comfortable; if he wasn't, why should she be? She looks sideways at him, unable to stop her tears once again; her heart in agony that he's experiencing such suffering and she's not even able to offer him a simple hug. He had told her stories of some of the things he had faced in the Marines, some of the helpless and hopeless situations that he had experienced. But she had only experienced them through his words; she never had to witness his reaction, never had to see him in such a beaten down condition and never had to deal with his rejection of her.

_'He's not rejecting you personally,' _Dr. Adams had tried to tell her. And when she heard those words she told him and herself that she would be strong and it would be okay. But seeing him now...so weak and so...so broken; she knew it was going to be an uphill battle for both of them.

Mac feels Stella's eyes watching him and feels his heart rate start to climb once more. _What is she thinking? She must think me weak! Does she pity me? Did she see all the footage? Did Don tell her? _He wants to ask her what she knows; wants to justify the feelings of insecurity in his brain but is unable to actually get the words out; knowing that any kind of prolonged conversation would just hinder his lungs and throat's recovery.

Mac's body starts to sag further toward the floor and he knows he needs to get back into bed and at least try to get his body onto something softer than the floor for the rest of the night. _But tomorrow I have to go home? Then I'll be alone..alone with Stella and..._

His thoughts die out as he senses her flinching again and slowly turns his head to lock eyes with her. When he does he watches in remorse as a single tear escapes the corner of her eye and slowly slides down her cheek. But she makes no motion to brush it away, simply allowing it to splatter to the floor, its sound only heard because of the silence both of them are offering.

"Want me to get Dr. Adams?" Stella asks with some hesitation.

"No, I don't need help" Mac grumbles as he turns away and then looks at the tubing that is still dangling from his arm. He reaches for the edge of the bed and tries to pull himself up. But with only one arm trying to get his weight up and his energy still depleted he merely crashes back to the floor and offers an angry curse in contempt.

Without asking him if he wants it, Stella slowly pushes herself up and heads toward him. She takes his arm as he tries to push himself back up, prompting him to look at her sharply before his arm takes action.

Mac pushes outward, not realizing that she wasn't steady and then watches in horror as Stella stumbles backward, but quickly catching herself on the edge of the bed or he would have watched her crash to the floor at his down doing.

"Stella," Mac groans.

"I'm okay Mac," she assures him in haste; biting back a small twinge of pain in her ankle from her jarring trip.

"Just go."

"No."

"GO!"

"NO!" Stella shouts back and then looks at him with a frown. "Please stop yelling Mac. I am not going anywhere. If you don't want help, that's fine but I'm here to stay!"

Mac looks at the expression on her face and then turns away, not wanting to show his facial expression of pain as he tries once again to get himself back into bed. He finally gets himself upright, leaning against the bed but still tangled in the IV tubing. Again without waiting for an invitation, Stella gently reaches for the tubing and starts to help Mac untangle it, not offering anything verbal; not wanting to provoke him into another coughing attack. When she's done, Stella steps back; her mind still in agony that she's not able to even offer him a simple touch of her hand on his; for when she tries he pulls back in sorrow.

"Do you want Dr. Adams?"

"No," Mac states as he fiddles with the tubing until it's to his liking and then slowly eases his battered frame back onto the bed, curling up on his side; his back to her.

"Goodnight Mac," Mac hears her whisper, his eyes fixing on the band of gold before he closes them tightly. _Stella won't understand...I can never tell her...she can never know what Wicks did..._

Mac fixes his weary gaze on the wall before him, unwilling to close his eyes for fear Wicks face will start to torment him once again. But as the minutes start to tick slowly past; his eyelids get heavier and once again against his will, he succumbs to the darkness; his mind offering a silent prayer that he'll get at least some reprieve in sleep.

But once again, about twenty minutes into his sleep; Maurice Wicks evil voice is heard once again.

_'You have a lot to offer Mac...you'll never be free of me Mac...like you gagged Mac...TIME TO BREAK YOU!'_

"NO!" Mac shouts; once again pulled from his restless stupor by another nightmare; his stomach heaving. He reaches for the small container that Dr. Adams had left, but his fingers slip and he simply throws up cloudy liquid onto the floor; cursing himself in angry frustration.

"I'll get it..." Stella tells Mac as he tries to get out of bed once more.

"Stella."

"Mac stay put!" Stella lightly growls; her own frustration starting to come through. "Mac, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

"Get Dr. Adams...he can clean..."

"I can do."

"Get Dr..."

"No," Stella simply states as she gently pushes Mac's hand aside and starts to clean up the liquid, fully aware of her husband's penetrating gaze watching her every move. When she's finished she looks up at him and merely smiles before she slowly heads back to bed; her stomach tight and her own body feeling like she could pass out at any minute. But she knows she has to be strong for Mac; it would be her love and strength that would get them through the first few days, praying that in that time, he'll fully open up and things will start to really heal for them.

Mac slowly eases himself back down onto his side; his wrapped wrist resting on his body, his back still to Stella; unable to actually face her, telling himself that if she can't see his facial expressions; a direct representation of what he's feeling inside, she'll offer no pity and he'll be left alone from questions and proddings. _She can't see me weak...never see me weak._

Stella watches Mac starting to fall asleep and just as his breathing slows once more she looks up and sees Don hovering in the doorway. She holds her finger to her lips, not wanting to wake him; before she slowly pushes herself out of the sleeping bed and heads toward him.

"Stella," Jessica gives her a hug when Stella has emerged into the hallway and closes Mac's door. Stella holds her friend as her tears flow and her body slightly trembles.

"Don said Mac was caught in quite a fight," Jessica offers, Stella knowing that Flack has preserved Mac's dignity by not telling even the woman he loves what his friend has had to endure.

"He's um...he was beaten pretty bad," Stella offers in a soft whisper.

"We brought some fresh clothes for both of you and something to eat, just in case," Jessica tells her with a kind smile. "Most important thing is Mac is out."

"Did you find the guy who um..."

"Ron Knight? I have," Flack assures her. "He was locked in another solitary holding cell and in bad shape; worked him over pretty good but he said they didn't have enough time and then went after Mac. He heard their plan also. He was asking after Mac."

"I'm sure Mac will be happy he's alive," Stella states with a heavy frown as Dr. Adams approaches them.

"We'll talk more in the morning."

Stella gives them both another hug and then waits until they leave before she turns back to Dr. Adams, her arms folded in front of her chest and her mind racing.

"How are you?"

"Don't you want to know how Mac is?"

"I know how he is; angry, confused, sick, hurt and tired," Dr. Adams offers with a kind smile. "How many times has he thrown up?"

"Just once. But he...he won't even let me touch him."

"Stella, that is natural, especially for a man."

"Not even a hug," she laments softly. "What do I do?"

"I can't tell you everything; because some things you'll need to just play by feel. But you'll just need to be patient and kind. It will be frustrating, especially at first; but that is when he'll need you most."

"How long does it last?"

"That is Mrs. Taylor asking instead of CSI Taylor asking," Dr. Adams states kindly. "For every survivor it's different."

"I know," Stella frowns. "Just um...I want to hold him Ben. Just to feel him in my arms and make him hear how much I love him."

"Have you told him?"

"A few times."

"He knows and trust me it will help him. I came to bring you these before I go home. They are for the pain that he'll be feeling in the morning. Is the IV still attached."

"Almost came loose but it's still there."

"I'll be back first thing in the morning to see how things went and then to let you both go home and really start the resting period. I know Mac will try to push himself back to work but I am going to insist he take at least the next two days to allow his body to heal. I am going to give him a mild sedative before I go; it'll help his nerves to settle a little."

"Anything for mine?" Stella asks weakly, prompting Dr. Adams to gently squeeze her arm and offer the younger woman a kind smile.

"Whatever you need just ask at the nursing station."

"I need to go in that room and hold my husband in my arms."

"Well you can try but if he has another nightmare..."

"He's already lashed out to me at once."

"Did he hurt you?"

"I just stumbled but I saw the look in his eyes when he pushed me. I know he doesn't want me to go but that's all he tells me. You said control was important. Should I listen when he says that?"

"Tell you what, the next time he does lash out, yell or whatever, do as he says. Go for a walk, get a coffee, but don't go to far. Give him about ten or twenty minutes; just so he feels some semblance of control, but trust me, it will hurt him if he thinks he's pushed you away for good. He's lost right now; and his brain is saying one thing and his heart another," Dr. Adams tries to explain with a heavy sigh. "Stella, post traumatic stress is handled differently by all. You can take to people with similar profiles and put them into the exact same situation and both will surprise you by handling it different. I don't know how Mac will react in an hour or in a day, but I know he loves you and that is what is going to get you both through this. I'll check up on you two in the morning. Then you'll go home and rest and just..."

"Take it a day at a time?" Stella finishes.

"I know it sounds kinda simple but it's true. Goodnight Stella."

Stella watches Dr. Adams take his leave and then slowly heads back inside; once again offered a healthy dose of one of Mac's nightmares, his lips uttering angry curses as he tells his untouchable assailants to stop touching him.

"Oh Mac," Stella laments as she hears the torment and misery in his voice. She quickly puts down the stuff from Don and Jessica and then wanders over toward Mac's bed. The IV is still firmly attached but his face is flush and his brow still damp and his fists are so tightly clenched his knuckles are white.

She slowly reaches out, holding back in hesitation, not wanting to wake him but unable to watch him in such misery and do nothing. Her fingers rest against his rough cheek, her heart breaking when his face tightens and he curses a man's name once again.

_But Mac wasn't assaulted...no time...so he should be fine, _she tries to convince herself, of course unaware of the other things that Maurice Wicks did to cause Mac so much mental aguish and terror.

_'Like those sounds Mac...too bad you can't tell me to stop...you have a great ass Mac...lets see the rest.'_

"NO," Mac's weary eyes snap open as he tries to hit Wicks face once more. He watches Stella step back and quickly withdraws his fist. "Stella...what the...hell," he barks angrily as he looks at her with frustrated frown.

"Just checking if you had a fever Mac," she offers softly. "Wanted to know if you wanted some water."

"I'll get it...myself," he coughs, his throat not as dry as before, but his voice still hoarse and his lungs still lightly heaving.

"Mac."

"Go away...Stella," Mac huffs once more, his mind begging her to leave him in his quiet misery.

"Okay Mac, I'll go."

"Wh..." Mac tries as he watches with a frown as she turns to leave, rapidly blinking away tears as she nears her jacket. "Stella?"

"You want me to go Mac and so I'm going to do what you ask."

He watches her put on her jacket, pick up her purse and then leave the room. _Is she coming back? Is she going home?_ "I need to be...alone," he falsely tells himself as he slumps back down. But unlike before, when his subconscious would lock onto the sounds of her breathing and settle in his mind and heart that she still loves him and is not going anywhere he was able to try to sleep. But now his mind is active once again. _I wanted her to go and she did. Why did she listen this time? Maybe she's tired of being here? Maybe she doesn't want to help me anymore? Maybe she doesn't love me anymore?_

"Stella," his lips utter in a soft whisper as he turns back to the sleeping bed and feels his eyes water once more. _Will she come back? Will I have to face all night alone? I can't tell her...but...but I need her...I..._

"AHHH!" Mac's voice shouts into the empty room, his lungs constricting once more as he breaks into another violent cough.

"I HATE YOU WICKS!" Mac shouts in misery, not caring about the dry hurt his throat was feeling after his shout. He looks at the clock and then back at the door; Stella's face still not appearing.

_When I go home, she won't be able to leave...what do I do then? I love her but...but if I tell her everything she'll...oh god she'll hate me. How could she not? I used to be in the Marine's? A solider? Strong and tough? I've come close to death before but...but this was worse. The other was by my choosing, this wasn't. But I went undercover..it was my doing. Maybe I deserved it? Maybe that was justice showing me that I tried to do things my way and..._

Mac's brain races with so many unanswerable questions and wonderings that he once again feels his stomach start to tighten and his the room go fuzzy; another bout of vomiting is about to occur. He reaches for the pail and throws up, cursing his own stupidity and life this time around.

"Stella..." he utters in sorrow as he slumps back onto the small bed and closes his eyes, praying for the room to stop spinning.

Stella takes another sip of her coffee as she slowly heads back toward Mac's room. It pained her so much to actually when Mac told her to; but Dr. Adams had said to try it once and see how he reacted when she returned. _'Everyone deals with things differently, we don't know how Mac is going cope; we'll take it a day at a time.'_

"One day at a time," she huffs as she nears Mac's room. She takes another sip, praying for her nerves to calm a little but not knowing what to expect when she goes into the room is keeping her on edge; rendering her plan to be calm moot. Telling herself to expect the worst, another bout of Mac yelling at her to get lost and leave him alone, she slowly pushes the door open, only to see him on his side, his breathing ragged and his body slightly trembling.

Her heart breaks when she hears him heavy a ragged sigh and wants more than anything to just rush to his side and hold him in her arms. She puts down her coffee and then hangs up her jacket, his body slightly flinching as he senses her presence. She stands a few feet from his bed; unable to take another step in case he pushes her away or is actually resting and she doesn't want to disturb him.

Mac senses her presence and feels his nervous anxiety subside a little; but having pushed her away and fearing he'd done so for good, he finds he's unable to actually turn and look at her. _She's probably mad at me, _he reasons as he tries to stifle a cough; not wanting to see any more pathetic and weak in her eyes then he fears he already does.

But then something happens.

Her fingers gently touch his forearm. He wants to pull away but finds he doesn't have the strength; or maybe it's his heart and so allows her touch to remain; instantly relishing in the delightful feeling of the warmth her skin is providing to his.

"You're cold Mac," Stella whispers as her eyes want to water, her fingers reaching for the blanket to pull around him.

"I don't care," he mumbles absently.

"I do care," she insists as she turns and grabs another blanket and merely puts it down on top of him. "Just rest now Mac. Please?"

"Can't..."

"Why not?" She gently prods, hoping he'll open up a little; hoping he'll at least release some of the anger he's holding inside.

"I'm um...I just can't," he repeats, unable to tell her that he's actually afraid to close his eyes; that if he does Maurice Wicks face will pop back into his subconscious and continue to torment him in his dreams. The image is always the same; he's tied up and Wicks is allowed to complete the assault and he takes his life. _Will this nightmare ever pass? _

"Okay," Stella simply replies as she looks down a his face, his eyes quickly shifting to look at her sideways, only acknowledging her presence but not actually qualifying it. Stella leans in closer, her face inches from his; her breath warm on his bruised cheek.

"I love you Mac," she whispers as she tenderly presses her lips against his face and then pulls back up; her heart racing just as fast as his. Stella heads back to bed, praying that Mac will at least try once again to get some sleep, even ten minutes longer would be better than the previous five. She finally closes her eyes, after settling into her sleeping bed and tells herself that Mac is safe and that when they are home, in familiar surroundings Mac will work through his nightmares and he'll be back to his regular self in no time.

However about twenty minutes later, she's once again pulled from her sleep by another tormented outburst from her husband and quickly looks to see him once again tangled in his IV tubing; this time succeeding in yanking it from his arm. She hears his curse and quickly rushes over to help. Mac's lips offer a curse, but she doesn't care, merely pushes his hand back down and continues to fix the dressing.

"Stella..."

"Mac, I'm fixing it and that's final," she tells him in a kind but firm tone. She expects him to resist but is pleasantly surprised when he finally withdraws his arm and allows her proceed, fixing the tubing and then reapplying the band aide.

"Sorry," she offers when his lips slightly wince as the sticky plastic tugs on some arm hairs.

"It's okay," he resigns with a heavy sigh as he finally twists his head to look at her straight on. But he says nothing; his brain shouting at him with a million different words, objections, curses even; but his heart telling him to just allow her to show her love by helping him; talk would come. He finally listens to his heart.

When she's finished he expects her to just leave; losing sight of her as she walks behind him but quickly hearing her moving the bed and then finally sees her come into view as she wheels the bed right up beside his; wanting to be close, and cursing the fact that she can't hold him in her arms but wanting the next best thing.

"I'm not going anywhere Mac," she promises as she slightly raises the bed so that it's almost even with his and then gets back on top, covering herself with a blanket and offering her hand. She feels a slight sense of loss and rejection when he doesn't grasp it but leaves it out in the open, hoping that he'll use it whenever he feels the need to hang onto something that will give him love and strength in return.

Mac looks at her hand and frowns, her band of gold shining up at him, forcing his mind to search for an image from that blessed day; anything happy to hold onto that will ease the nightmares and assure him that before long all this will be a distant memory.

He looks at her face; beautiful and at peace, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. He knows she's not asleep but is thankful that she's not pressing him with questions; questions he fears the answers to. But realizing that she's not about to wake up, he slowly closes his eyes and tries to find some comfort in the sound of her slow rhythmic breathing. _Stella's not leaving_his heart shouts at his brain. _She's here to stay...she needs to leave...she's not leaving...she'll be ashamed...she's going to love you no matter what...she'll hate if I tell the truth...you'll suffer more if you don't..._

And on it went; a back and forth silent battle between his head and his heart; neither winning but neither losing; a constant stalemate inside the mind of a man that now curses his stupid decision.

Stella hears Mac's angry whispers and opens her eyes, her gaze fixing on his crunched up face but his hand still within inches of hers; thankful that his body hasn't recoiled from her being so near. But she takes another chance, gently moving her hand forward and brushing his fingers with hers. His hand slightly flinches and she freezes, unsure of what to do next. But his hand doesn't move and so she waits another few tormented minutes before she tries again; this time gently easing her fingers into his grasp.

Another nightmare forces his hands to curl; tightening around hers and forcing her lips to slightly gasp. But since he's not at full strength, thankfully his actions don't hurt her hand and they quickly subside; his strength only lasting for so long.

Mac finally opens his eyes and looks at her fingers still held in his grasp and then up at her eyes as they watch him in expectation.

"Just in case," she offers softly and his heart rate slightly settles; his brain making no moves to tell his hand to let go and retreat under the covers. And while the rest of his frame occasionally trembles, his hand and arm are warm and still; thanks to her reassuring touch.

"Stella," he starts in a miserable tone.

Stella gently pushes her fingers against his lips and stops him immediately. Mac closes his eyes just as a single tear escapes and her fingers leave his bruised lips and brush the delicate bead of salt away from his face.

"Just rest now Mac. We'll talk in the morning."

Mac simply nods his head and watches her until he's no longer able to keep his eyes open and succumbs once again to the tormented realm of sleep. And so for the next few hours the routine would be the same; Mac's nightmarish vision of Wicks being able to fully assault him forces him awake; he coughs but as his hand firmly grasps Stella's he's able to keep the nourishing liquid in his system, until both of them finally fall into a somewhat solid slumber just as the sun starts to rise.

XXXXXXXX

Dr. Adams wanders up to their room and peers it the window, a faint smile starting to caress his face. He sees Mac and Stella's hands still firmly clasped and their bodies close, and although he wasn't really expecting to see them in a full embrace right now, the nearness of Mac's body to Stella's confirms in his mind that it will be Stella's love and strength that will help both of them succeed; enabling them to rise from this night stronger than before and their strong bond, a bit more unbreakable.

"You've just passed the first hurdle Stella. Now the healing can begin."

* * *

**A/N:** Still liking it? Every case of PTSD is different for every person but tried to make it realistic for what kind of person Mac is. If you want to say it's not I already recognize that it's not perfect so please don't flame, just leave. Otherwise I hope you liked it and drop me a note before you go.


	8. The First step is Always the Hardest

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 8 - The First step is Always the Hardest**

**A/N: **A special THANK YOU to everyone who has stuck with this story so far. I know it's darker than I normally write for our SMACKED and I once again apologize in advance if I have offended anyone as that was not my intent. But am trying to balance with other fluffy and action stories along the way so hope you like the variety! :D

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By the time Mac opens his watery eyes for the final time, the sun was being kept at bay by the closed blinds and Stella's soft snoring was keeping time with his heart rate. He looks at his fingers still grasped tightly in her grasp and feels his body offer a heavy sigh.

_I can't tell her the truth. I'll just tell her that it was a rough fight and it'll be okay. I can't tell her that Wicks groped and...touched where...he um..._his thoughts die out as he feels a small lump starting to form and quickly shifts his eyes away from Stella's peaceful face and focuses on anything that'll keep him from being emotional. His mind cursing himself for feeling so weak.

But when he looks back at Stella's face, he sees her eyes open, watching him intently; her flushed lips curling into a perfect smile.

"Morning," she whispers as her fingers gives his a firm squeeze.

"Morning," Mac lightly croaks in return.

"I know you didn't sleep very much but do you feel like eating breakfast at all?"

"I um..." Mac's brow gently furrows as he looks at the IV that is still pumping nutritional liquid into his body. "I guess this," he huffs as his fingers feel the IV tubing that is attached to his stomach, "just leaves me empty."

Stella looks at his wrists and then frowns, her eyes spying a small trace of dried blood around the edge of one of the soft gauze wrappings. She figures his wrestling all night must have broken some of the skin that was trying to heal. Her eyes move from his wrists up his arms to his chest; the gown slightly askew and showing purplish marks near the top of his collarbone. Her eyes continue their quest, finally reaching his face and her brow furrowing.

His eyes are tired and watery; darkish circles dotted with a few specks of pieces of embedded dirt that Dr. Adams failed to clean away completely the night before or he missed during his shower. The cut above his eye has swollen the skin but the black stitches just add to the ugliness, a stark reminder of all that he had to endure. His opposite cheek has a dark bruise and his perfect lips are parched and dry.

"What?" Mac asks in misery. "I look pathetic right?"

"Tired Mac, you look tired."

"I look..." he starts only to have her gently push her thumb against his lips and stop his speech.

"Tired Mac, you look tired and that's all," she states firmly as her hand comes to rest on his rough cheek and he offers her a mere nod of compliance.

And with him up all night, throwing up, coughing, wrestling with unseen demons and probably not getting more than twenty minutes of rest at a time, she wonders if her next question will be in vain. But she knows she must ask and so presses on.

"Do you want to go home today?" Stella inquires with some hesitancy; dreading a negative answer.

"I...Stella..." Mac starts with a light wince. _If I go home then I'll be alone with her all the time. What if she presses for details? I can't just leave. I could stay in a hotel? Or I could...oh damn I hate this! _His mind ponders in turmoil, his stomach still tight from the night before and his head still pounding.

"You'll just be able to go to sleep in your own bed Mac."

"I know but..." Mac starts as he slowly pulls his fingers out of her grasp, once again just wanting to roll away and be alone; not wanting to face any questions about what he went through.

"You'll have privacy Mac."

"I don't want to talk about...well anything Stella."

"Mac I..."

"I DON'T WANT..." he starts in a loud tone, his lungs instantly dry and heaving for air.

"You'll tell me when you're ready Mac."

"But..."

Stella's fingers immediately rest on his chest, forcing his words to stop and his eyes to lock with hers.

"Did you see anything?"

"Where?"

"TELL...me..." his voice dies out into a rough cough. "What did...you see...on the tape."

Stella looks at him with a deep frown and a heavy heart, but knows that lying to him right now, even to save his feelings would only add to greater misery in the long run.

"I saw only..."

"What!"

"Mac what I saw was you in a captive state about to be beaten. It looked terrifying and I can't imagine what you were thinking before that guard rushed in," she starts and then pauses, trying to swallow back her own lump of misery. "I know you are strong but you can tell me. You know you can right? You can tell me anything."

"Is that all you saw?"

"Yes," she answers in truth.

"Stella..."

"And you know I love you more than anything, you know that right?"

"Stella..." Mac tries again.

"Tell me you know I love you Mac," Stella gently begs her eyes about to water as she beholds uncertainty in the sapphire pools before her.

"I want to be alone," Mac whispers with a frown. "I'm sorry."

"Mac please, you have to tell me."

"I um..." his voice dies out. _Of course I love her, but when I tell her the truth she'll leave. She'll never love me now, not when I tell her I let another man...how could I have let him touch me...how?_

"Mac?"

"I know you do," he finally offers with a weak voice. _Right now you say you do. But later?_

"Okay," she says weakly. "But if you want to talk about it then I'm here okay?"

"Sure," Mac answers as Dr. Adams offers a soft knock on the door. Both look up and Mac once again feels his anxiety starting to rise. _What if he wants to talk in front of Stella? What he if assumes I told her last night and..._his mind trails off in panicked anxiety.

"Morning Mac, Stella. I won't ask how everyone slept because I can tell it wasn't much. I'll just fix a few things and then get you your walking papers, okay Mac?"

Mac looks at him and offers a tense frown; not really wanting to go home but not wanting to stay in the hospital either. His mind now wonders how he'll face Stella tonight. Surely she wouldn't want to have sex, but they were apart for almost a week and do share a bed. _What if she wants to be intimate tonight? If I show her my chest then she'll reconsider right? I can't be intimate with her, I keep hearing Wicks voice. God I hate this!_

"Mac?"

"Do I have a choice?" Mac asks bitterly as Stella looks at Dr. Adams in misery.

"You know I'm going to use the washroom and freshen up a bit. Don brought you some clothes for going home in," Stella gives Mac's hand a small squeeze before she pushes herself up off the bed and slowly heads for the bathroom, her heart beating painfully in her chest with each step she takes. She knows that to argue with Mac in front of Dr. Adams would be a losing battle so instead hopes that with her gone, the older man can at least talk Mac into going home; a familiar setting would help more than he realizes.

Dr. Adams waits until Stella closes the door before he looks at Mac in concern. "What is it?"

"I don't want to go home."

"Mac you are cleared to leave. I have wrapped your ribs, you have no concussion or anything I find medically questionable. I have set your wrist and stitched up your head."

"To work then?"

"Mac you can't go to work, not in your condition. Your body is malnourished, dehydrated and been through hell. You are not Superman and need at least one, if not two days of solid rest. And by rest I mean sleep. You didn't sleep last night did you?"

"Too many nightmares."

"Well that is normal," Dr. Adams frowns as he looks at one of Mac's wrists. "I suppose so is that. Can I have a look see?"

"I don't want to talk to Stella about this."

"About what?"

"About what I...well what I went through."

"Can I ask why not?"

"I just don't."

"Mac?"

"I DON'T WANT TO!" Mac fairly shouts before he slumps back onto his pillow in angry defeat.

"If you don't Mac, it will eat away at you."

"No...I won't let it," Mac finally calms down, his throat drying out. "In a day, it'll all be over."

"I wish it were that easy Mac. You know talking about it isn't something to be embarrassed about."

"I should have stopped them," Mac states, shaking his head and praying for Wicks smiling face to leave his mind.

"Mac..."

"I just want to be alone."

"Do you want to go home?" Dr. Adams asks directly. "Or do you want to stay here for one more day?"

"Can I?"

"Well your body has been through a lot and you do need adequate rest, would you get that here? Or is being here just an excuse to not be at home alone with your wife? Worrying she'll ask you things you don't want to confess to her?"

"Damn you," Mac gently curses.

"I gotta ask the tough questions Mac, you know that," Dr. Adams tells him with a slight frown. "But the choice is yours young man. So which will it be?"

Mac looks at him with a tired gaze; his stomach tight and uneasy and his ears still slightly ringing. His mind races with so many scenarios about good and bad for each situation presented but all he can do in the end is offer one word.

"Home."

In his heart he knows that's where he needs to be; away from the reminders of what he's doing in the hospital in the first place.

"That is the right choice. When you want to be alone, just go into your bedroom and close the door. But hopefully that'll just be to sleep and not to lock yourself away from the world. You are a survivor Mac, you have been all your life. The stories you told me about being in the Marines; watching your father near death and then surviving 9/11; that is not a man who shrinks away from the world when the going gets tough."

"I did after Claire died."

"You only think you did. But when you were at your lowest who was there to help you get right back up."

"Stella," he huffs as he casts his watery sapphire orbs in the direction of the bathroom.

"And she's here and willing to do that again. Only you didn't lose anything this time Mac."

_Only my pride and dignity, _his brain laments as his lips offer nothing in the way of a verbal rebuttal. _He doesn't understand, none of them understand what I went through. They can't know. I need those tapes...I need them and I need to destroy them. _

"Okay so let me get a few things for you and I'll be back. Remember to eat today Mac, even if you don't feel that hungry, you need to build your strength up again," Dr. Adams explains as he carefully works at getting the IV tubing removed, tossing it away and then making sure Mac is okay to just get dressed when he's ready.

Mac offers only another nod as he watches Dr. Adams leave and then allows his eyes to quickly fix on the door to the room Stella is still inside. Not wanting to be a further burden, he slowly pushes himself upward to a seated position; holding onto the side rails to keep himself from toppling over. Once the room stops spinning, he slowly eases his legs over to the side of the bed and then finally allows himself to just sit and rest, his eyes blinking away excess tears before they are finally free and clear to focus on whatever he needs them to.

He watches Stella slowly open the door and then look at him with a strained smile before she heads toward him, her posture tense and uncertain.

"What did you decide Mac?"

"I guess I'll go home," he huffs as he looks at her and then away, his brain very well aware of her eyes examining whatever piece of bruised skin they can land on.

"You can change and then..." her voice trails off as she heads toward the knapsack that Flack brought the night before. She gathers it up and turns only to see Mac trying to slide off the bed, his legs about to falter. She drops the bag and rushes to help, carefully holding onto his trembling frame; not wanting him to fall to the floor.

"I got you Mac," she whispers as her arms tightly embrace him, her face resting on his; their heart rates keeping time.

"I should change," Mac whispers in a dry tone, prompting Stella to pull back with a placid expression.

She wants more than anything to ask him why he's so rigid? Why won't he say he loves me? What is he afraid of? She feels his body tense further as her hands move lower, resting on the small of his back; but is shocked when he pulls away in haste.

"I'll be um...done in a few minutes," he quickly pulls away, his mind racing with panic the lower her hands move down his frame. _Can't touch me there...no one can ever touch me there again! _

"Did I hurt you?" Stella asks in haste; thinking perhaps that he was also beaten in the lower back where she's unable to see.

"I just want to change," Mac answers in haste as he gathers up the knapsack and shuffles toward the bathroom, his heart racing and his core on fire. He closes the door and leans against it, his head now experiencing dizzy waves.

_'You have a lot to offer us...black is also my favorite...which side do you want...always be with you...'_

"NO!" Mac shouts as he opens his eyes and punches his fist into the air; the image of Maurice Wicks laughing at him before he disappears.

"Mac?" He hears Stella's voice which quickly snaps him to attention.

"You okay?" She asks as she nears the door, her hand pressing against it.

"Yeah fine," Mac groans as he puts the knapsack on the small counter and then looks at his haggard appearance in the mirror; getting a good look at himself for the first time since he was rescued.

_I look like hell, _his brain states in truth. His eyes examine the cut above his eye; the bruise on his cheek; the cut marks on his mouth and the dirtied stubble that is just adding to his tormented exterior. His fingers start to gently tug off the hospital shirt and his lips offer a slight curse as he gazes upon the deep purple bruises that now adorn his smooth skin.

"Oh my god," he whispers in misery as he turns away; his eyes dropping, unable to look at the ugly reminders that were inflicted on him against his will. But knowing he cannot stay inside the small room for longer than expected, he tosses the shirt aside and then reaches of the pants. Since the hospital didn't provide underwear, he finds he's unable to take the pants off completely. He looks around in fear; studying the room for any holes, any openings, anything that would give someone else an unauthorized peep show in his naked condition.

But when he hears Stella starting to talk to someone else outside, he knows he has to get dressed. So with a deep swallow and closing his eyes, he pushes the flimsy hospital pants all the way to the floor and with lighting speed reaches for his jeans and pulls them on, opening his eyes and finishing his task in record time; not caring that by the end, he was light headed and almost out of breath.

Stella nervously paces the small hospital room, not wanting to bug Mac any more than she fears she already has but worried that with him now quiet, he's either passed out or having second thoughts about going home. _I love you Mac, can't you see that? Why won't you tell me what happened? What are you afraid of? What really happened? What are you not telling me?_

She finally hears the door open and watches with a small smile as her husband exits the room dressed in jeans and a sweater but looking nervous and afraid.

_Mac is not afraid, what happened? _She knows he said he didn't want to talk about it, but she also fears that he'll get home, close the door and lock her out for the rest of the day.

"Dr. Adams was just here, he gave you your walking papers, a few pain and infection prescriptions and an appointment for a follow up visit."

"I'm not coming back here," Mac takes the appointment slip and tosses it aside; a crumpled ball landing on the floor.

"Well as soon as we are home, I'm going to make you something to eat," Stella mentions as she scoops up the ball, puts it into her pocket and heads for the door to get her coat.

_'Remember Stella, for the first few days, he'll be strained and withdrawn. But he needs to sleep and he needs to eat. On those two things you must be firm.' _Dr. Adams had instructed before he had left.

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes you are," Stella gently argues as she slings her purse over her shoulder and then loops her free arm in his. She senses his hesitation but is thankful when he doesn't pull back right away; only doing so in the elevator to make room for a stretcher. The ride to the main floor and then the walk to the Avalanche is spent in tormented silence, Mac looking everywhere but at her; refusing to make even the smallest amount of eye contact.

She offers an arm to help him into the Avalanche and once again has to bite back her agitation when he refuses, stumbling at first but then getting inside without her help or even physical contact.

_She only wants to help, _his brain offers as Mac closes the door and then watches her head for the drivers side. He offers a weak frown but nothing more, unsure of what to say despite the fact that they have been apart for almost a week and married for almost two year; inside it's killing him to be so cold and formal.

"Want to eat at home or out?" Stella wonders as she starts up the Avalanche and then heads out of the parking lot.

"Home," he answers simply.

"Okay, home it is," Stella nods, trying to hold back a flood of tears his painful rejections are offering. "So what kind of food did you eat in there?" She asks once the silence had started to rebuild.

"Not much," Mac replies; his eyes cast outside, the dismal weather just adding to his mental anguish.

"And dessert?"

"No dessert," is all he offers.

Stella tries to keep her tears hidden but when she reaches for his hand and he flinches, she's unable to keep them at bay and quickly pulls over; prompting him to look at her in sorrow.

"We have always been honest with each other right?"

"Stella..."

"Mac, I'm not trying to guilt you into anything but I'm at a real loss here. I mean even with Claire's death I knew the reason and you admitted you were feeling helpless, angry, lost and alone. You have been away from me for five days; you were rescued from...hell," her voice breaks as she quickly brushes away another stray tear, "but now you are treating me like some kind of intrusive stranger. Mac I love you and I pray you still love me."

"Stella..." he tries again.

"I don't know what to do Mac because you won't tell me anything and these one word answers are killing me. Dr. Adams he um...he told me that..."

"What did he tell you?" Mac asks sharply, his posture once again on the defensive before he has even allowed her to offer her words.

"He told me that you told him you weren't...you know..."

"Raped?" His voice breaks as his throat fills with bile.

"Yes," she nods in sorrow.

"Stella..."

"Is that true Mac? You can tell me, I love you and won't judge you or..."

"I'm fine Stella," Mac tries.

"Mac..."

"There wasn't time. Dr. Adams was right," he admits before he turns and looks away, his heart racing at top speed. _I can't tell her what else Wicks did. How could she love me when she knows another man...I can't tell her the truth._

Stella's hand reaches out and gingerly touches his left thigh; forcing his body to slightly flinch once more and her hand to quickly retreat.

She brushes away the rest of her tears and then starts for home once more; telling herself that Mac admitted he wasn't sexually assaulted and that it's just the trauma from being trapped and beaten and that by tomorrow he should be okay and back to himself; wanting to tell her what really happened and then work with Flack to put Maurice Wicks away for good.

_Bastard! _She inwardly curses Wicks name as she looks over at Mac and offers him a sad frown. _I hope he goes away for life. _

XXXXXXXX

"So Detective Taylor huh," Maurice Wicks smiles as he watches Flack sit down before him. "How is he?"

"Ready to kick your ass you worthless piece of garbage," Flack snaps; Sully looking at him with a stern expression.

"I don't think dough boy likes your tone. Is that right dough boy?"

"Hey asshole, any more talk that this dough boy doesn't agree with and I'll leave the room. You like my tone now?" Sully retorts.

"So how is _Detective Taylor_?"

"I am not here for small talk Wicks," Flack states firmly as he places a file down before him on the table. "We have an eye witness to your _deeds, _and know that you killed Bartholomew O'Brien; we found your fingerprints and DNA traces on his body."

"Everything you have is circumstantial and backed up by a man who I can say has a personal grudge against me," Wicks smiles as he folds his arms in front of this broad chest and smiles as Flack. "I wonder whose word they'll listen to."

"We also have further evidence that you assaulted Andrew Bedford and Lawrence Galley."

"Yeah? Let them come forward and prove it," Wicks mocks.

"We also have proof of you unlawfully confining an undercover member of the NYPD and that..."

"Oh trust me he liked being detained. And why isn't detective Taylor here to tell me all this in person?" Wicks interrupts.

"Detective Taylor is..."

"Did you like my handiwork?" Wicks smirks. "Did he?"

"Listen to me very carefully," Flack starts in a warning tone.

"Sorry Detective Flack, but now you'll listen to me," Wicks leans in closer; his face crunched into an angry scowl. "Unless you have something more than a flimsy piece of paper to come at me with, I suggest you take your ass out that door there and I'll be walking in less than twenty four hours."

"I don't think you get it Maurice," Flack counters. "We have it all on film," he retorts with his own wry smirk. "So when they take your ass out that door, maybe you can think on that."

"How is Detective Taylor? Does he miss our times together? Was a fighter that one."

"We're done here. Tomorrow you'll meet with the court appointed..."

"I always liked the ones that fight back," Wicks smiles. "Did it get him hard also?"

"I'm done here."

"Tell him I'll see him again real soon."

"Guard!"

"Soon Detective Flack."

"The next time you see Mac Taylor is when he'll be signing your death warrant."

"Oh trust me Detective Flack, I'll be seeing him before then. You tell him that."

"You are going no where Wicks, except to death row."

"Might not be tomorrow but it'll happen."

"This time, I'm in control."

"Tell him hello for me."

"Rot in hell Wicks," Flack growls as he stands up to follow Sully out the door.

"You tell him! YOU TELL HIM!" Wicks shouts as the door slams shut. "I'll see you again Detective Taylor," Wicks whispers as he licks his lips. "And next time you better pray for death because there will be no escape from me."

Wicks angry fists slams down hard on the table as he glares at the small window and the back of the guards head keeping watch. "Soon Detective Taylor, I will see you again and I will finish what I started. You'll not best me, EVER!"

XXXXXXXX

Mac feels his anxiety starting to grow again as Stella brings the Avalanche to a halt in the underground parking lot of their building; his eyes nervously darting around, spying the shadows and feeding his growing paranoia by seeing Wicks face watching him.

_He's not real...he's in jail. _Mac keeps telling himself over and over again. He slowly opens his side of the crossover and gets down, not seeing the man coming up to them; a neighbor that he knows well.

"Hey Mac," his brain registers a somewhat familiar voice greet him from behind. But when the strange man's fingers land on his shoulder and offer a friendly squeeze; the same gesture that Wicks had used, his senses go into overdrive and he reacts in the worse way possible.

"Mac!" Stella states in horror as she watches her husband pivot on his foot, grab the man's hand and send him toward the side of the crossover. Thankful that his strength wasn't up to par, she watches their neighbor's only bump the side of the truck, but his footing remain.

"What the hell Mac? It's me William."

"Sorry Will, Mac was in the hospital last night and is still a bit disorientated."

"Yeah he looks like hell, what happened?" The man asks in concern.

"Nothing," Mac states sourly. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," is all he offers before he turns and heads for the elevator doors; wanting to escape another tense situation that he seemed unable to control.

"Stella, what happened?"

"It's a long story Will, but are you okay?"

"Yeah just took me by surprise. Guess it's a good thing he's not himself," Will states as he dusts himself off. "Just wanted to ask him about that old golf set he's got in lockup."

"I'll get him to call you," Stella apologizes once more before she takes her leave, heading toward Mac with an expression of wonder.

"He surprised me."

"Mac, he's our neighbor, we have known him for two years."

"I said I was sorry," Mac states in frustration. "Maybe I should have gone to a hotel."

"I will of course ignore that," Stella counters.

"I just don't want to be a burden."

"A burden?" Stella arches a brow. "Do you even hear yourself?" Stella asks, her tone rising sharply. But she quickly catches her angry frustration and offers him a kind but strained smile. "I'm sorry. You'll never be a burden to me Mac. Ever."

"Okay," is all he affords her, his eyes nervously watching the buttons as they change colors as the elevator slowly climbs to their floor. But once they are deposited a few doors down Mac now wonders if the rest of the day will be spent with him dodging painful questions. _Maybe I can just pretend that I am going to sleep and that way I won't have to talk. _

They enter their quiet apartment and Stella takes the knapsack and heads toward the table; turning to see Mac watching her with a wondering glance.

"I'll um...I'll start breakfast and you can just rest."

"Sure."

"Bedroom or living room?"

"Bedroom," Mac answers as he slowly turns and heads for their bedroom, Stella watching in torment. She follows after him, unsure of how to act or what to do; wanting more than anything to just hold him in her arms and never let him go.

"Want a shower?"

"Had one last night."

"You smell like hospital."

"I don't care," he mumbles as he slowly eases himself down on the side of the bed, facing the closet. Stella sits down beside him and takes his left hand and holds it in hers; thankful that his skin warms the longer theirs makes contact.

"I missed you Mac."

"Stella..."

"Oh god I missed you Mac," she laments as she wraps her arms around him and clutches him to her, burying her head on his shoulder and not caring about his weak response in return. "I missed you so much," she whispers as her fingers lightly tease the nap of his neck.

"I missed you too," he finally admits; although his response is more mechanical than heartfelt.

She pulls back and gently caresses his face with her fingers, her hand resting on the rough cheek that isn't as bruised as the other. Part of her brain wants to call him on his response but the fact that he's even talking is enough to tell her that not all hope is lost. So she just smiles and nods.

"I am going to make some breakfast and hope you'll just rest, okay?"

"I will," he replies with a small nod of his head. Mac feels her body pull away from his and then curses his own ineptness for not being able to tell her the truth. _But I can't, _he falsely reasons. _She'll hate me. The assignment was my idea, I'm to blame...I allowed this to happen._

Mac watches her leave, closing the door half way before disappearing from his view. He slowly lays down on his right side, his lips offering a small gasp of pain and his face a wince as his body finally comes to rest in the odd position. He tells himself that he spent the night in silent misery, throwing up and fighting with his own tormented visitors that he's now back at home, safe and will be able just to get some sleep.

But as soon as he closes his eyes, he sees Wicks face appear once more and then opens his eyes in haste.

"Damn bastard," Mac curses as he shakes his head, willing the image to fade. His eyes search around for something, anything that will help the images fade; finally settling on a picture of him and Stella on their wedding day and allowing that memory to try to latch onto his brain as he closes his eyes and tries to get some sleep once again.

And for the first ten minutes Mac's mind holds onto that image of him holding Stella close as they enjoy their first dance as husband and wife. However, he as his mind flashes images of the crowd, he sees Maurice Wicks in attendance and his panic starts to build.

_'I'm coming for you Mac,' _the image taunts.

"Getaway..." Mac mumbles with an angry tone; his eyes still closed.

_'Like you in black Mac,' _the image continues, taking a step closer.

"Never...get me," Mac's lips offer as his body starts to lightly flail.

_'Brought you a present Mac,' _the image laughs as it produces the heavy handcuffs.

"Hate...you," Mac states a bit more firmly; this time drawing Stella toward the bedroom in a hurry.

_'Like you helpless. You always will be!'_

"HATE...YOU!" Mac shouts as he opens his eyes in haste. But instead of seeing Stella's concerned face he sees Wicks and pushes outward, his fist catching her on the cheek and sending her stumbling backward. He hears hear offer a small cry of surprised pain before he quickly rubs his eyes and then looks at her in horror.

"Stella!"

"No it's okay Mac," she tells him quickly, as she tries to upright herself; her face still stinging from his fist and her back lightly throbbing from where it connected oddly with the wall.

"Damn it!" Mac curses himself as he watches her face offer a slight grimace.

"Mac..."

"I'm sorry...Stella," he laments as he pushes himself upright and then offers his hand.

Knowing his strength isn't where it should be, Stella helps herself up more than take advantage of his weakened appendage. She plops herself back down onto the bed beside him and offers him a slight smile.

"I didn't mean to startle you?"

"Did I hurt you?" Mac asks in sorrow.

"Only my pride," she offers in half truth. "I heard you calling out in your sleep so came to see if you were okay."

"Nightmare."

"I'm sure," she whispers as she tenderly brushes away a few beads of sweat before her hand rests on the back of his neck and then checks his forehead. "Always knew my husband was hot," she smiles as she gently pokes him in the side; hoping to bring back some of the old Mac Taylor to the fore. It doesn't work.

_'And what about being intimate?' _She has asked Dr. Adams while Mac was changing.

_'Sexual intimacy is something that he might pull away from. But just be normal with him; do whatever you normally would do. If you pull back or are strained around him, it will feed his paranoia and cause him to withdraw further; forcing his mind to think he's different and that will really hurt you both. Don't expect anything from him right away, but don't lose heart, he loves you and will be back to himself in no time. Was sex ever an issue in the past?'_

_'Never.'_

_'Then you'll get back what you had. Your love just needs to be patient and kind this time. Two qualities I know you possess. Just don't give up on him.'_

_'That isn't even an option.'_

"I guess I should change," he frowns as he looks at his dresser with a sideways glance.

"Breakfast is ready and I hope you'll join me."

"Stella."

"Please Mac, I don't want to eat alone anymore."

"I just don't feel like it."

"Tell you what, I'll set your plate and turn on the TV and if you want to join me you can."

"But," Mac starts again only to have her lean in and lightly brush his cool lips with her warm ones.

"I love you Mac and will be in the other room if you want to eat. If you only want to come and eat and then come back here and sleep then I will respect that. But you need your strength."

And before he can offer another word, she pushes herself up off the bed and heads into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the stifling silence.

_'When you are alone...it's my face you'll see.'_

"Can't let...him win," Mac's face gently crunches with pain as he finally pushes himself up off the bed and then wanders into the kitchen. True to her words, Stella had set a plate of eggs, toast, fruit and coffee was coming. He looks at the side of her face where his hand connected with her tender skin; he spies the reddish mark and immediately feels his anger rising.

"I'm okay Mac," she assures him in haste as her fingers rest on his tightly closed fist. "Please just relax and enjoy. Sports highlights from last night's game are on."

But he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from the visible mark of the pain he inflicted on her.

"I promised myself I would never hurt you," he confesses, his eyes locked on their bands of gold as their fingers continue joined together.

"And you never will," her fingers leave his hand and gently rest under his chin, raising his remorse-ridden eyes to lock with hers. "I'm okay."

"The mark on your cheek is my doing," he growls; his anger directed toward himself mostly.

"Mac..."

"I can't take this Stella. I did this!"

"Mac," she tries once more.

"I DID THIS!" He shouts before he stands up, his abrupt actions forcing the chair to fall backward onto the hardwood floor before he turns and rushes back toward their bedroom, slamming and then locking the door behind him; wanting to shield his vulnerable emotional state away from everyone around him; his wife included.

"Mac, please open this door."

"No."

"Mac I am okay," she insists.

"Go away."

"This is not your fault!"

"GO AWAY!" He shouts in misery. "Please Stella...just leave me...alone," he laments in torment. "I hurt you...oh god what have I done?"

"Mac," Stella shakes her head in frustrated grief as she sags against the door and slowly sags to the floor, gathering her knees to her arms. She wants more than anything to guilt him into opening the door; to tell him that her health will be ruined because of his stubborn refusal to listen to her and try to see that she only wants to help; but knows inside that it'll do him more harm than good so can only pray that he'll want to open the door to her and allow her to help.

_Please Mac...please don't shut me out, _her mind begs in misery as she presses her ear to the door and closes her eyes as her brain registers his whispered curses. _What happened in there that you aren't telling me?_

Mac hears her heavy sigh on the other side of the door and squeezes his eyes shut in remorse. All his brain flashes now are images of the bruise on her beautiful face that he made. _Stella will hate me now for sure, _his brain curses his own stupidity. He feels his stomach tighten but refuses to let himself go back outside and so squeezes his eyes shut as he's forced to swallow back the bile; coughing hoarsely at his own actions.

"Damn it," he grumbles once more as he slowly turns onto his other side, facing away from his bedside table; his eyes fixed now on Stella's empty side of the bed, her face appearing before him once more.

_'I love you Mac,' he_ hears her voice whispering to him. However at the same time he also hears Wicks whispering the opposite and so for the next two hours, he can do little more than toss and turn; his temperature rising, his body lightly shaking and offering a cold sweat, his head dizzy and his ear drums about to burst; his heart rate passing critical.

"I can't do this...can't live like this," he chants over and over again until his body finally gives in to fatigue, closes his eyes and falls into the haunted realm of sleep.

XXXXXXXX

"Thanks Don," Stella's tired voice tells him over the phone. "I'm glad that Ron Knight will be okay but do you really think that Wicks could get off on a technicality?" Stella asks in dread.

_"Well part of what he said was the truth and it could come down to his word against Ron's. I mean the footage we have only has um...well Mac thankfully wasn't...well Wicks didn't go all the way but..."_

"This just means that that monster could walk and what...you think he'll come after Mac?"

_"Stella, he'd be stupid to try as he knows he'd be arrested for sure. But it won't come to that, I promise you. This guy is behind bars to stay."_

"Don you promised me that Mac would be okay!" She gently snaps and then quickly recants. "Sorry I'm just..."

_"How is he?"_

"He won't eat and when he talks he only says a few words and now he's locked himself in our bedroom and won't come out. Don I'm scared. What if he goes so far under his shield that I can't pull him back out?"

_"I'm just as worried and wish I knew what to tell you. I can't imagine what he's thinking right now but...is there anything Jess or I can do?"_

"Just make sure that when Mac does return he's not the talk of the lab."

_"Already started on that.__ I saw Danny and said that Mac's cover was blown by an ambush but that aside from a few broken ribs he's okay and will be back in in a few days."_

"Well that should work for now. I'm too upset to even eat or sleep or think straight. I just feel like I am losing him."

_"Well let me know if I can do anything else. Right now I have Ron Knight at a safe house and am working with Sinclair's office to honor the deal Mac made him."_

"What does Sinclair know?"

_"The same as Danny.__ That Mac's cover was blown in the middle of a sting but that he wasn't able to get everything needed and now we need to pursue the evidence and..."_

"Has he seen the footage?"

_"No, I have it. He was pretty angry at first but I told him that I would personally review and let him know if anything else could be used to put Maurice Wicks away. It'll keep for now but unless we find some more hard evidence against Wicks"_

"Such as what?" Stella interrupts again. "The only other people that knew what he did for sure are all dead. Except for Mac and I'll kill both of us if he even thinks about offering himself to that monster once again."

_"Don't worry Stella, we'll find what we need. Jess is here now and we are going to go and see Sheldon and Danny. They were assigned to the cell's of the dead men andwe'll get him Stella. That smug bastard won't get away with all this."_

"And his brother?"

_"Well we found the stash of um...male porn that the..."_

"Any pictures of Mac?"

_"Yes. And don't worry Adam just downloaded and gave me the password, he never saw Mac in...well in anything."_

"Don...are they um..."

_"You don't want to know Stella. Various images of him...I locked them away. But it only proves that Maurice set it up so his brother could watch. Adam has Franklin Wicks computer now but he's done. He'll never preside as a judge if we prove that he had a hand in all this. As soon as I have something solid, I'll let you know. Are you sure you don't need anything else?"_

"No we'll be fine. How are you with all this?"

_"Fine," Flack lies._

"Don?" Stella presses.

_"I blame myself Stella, how could I not? I'm just as worried to see him as I'm sure he is to see...well me and...I'll call if I have anything else. Gotta run."_

"Thanks Don," Stella resigns with a heavy sigh as she hangs up the phone. She looks outside; casting her gaze into the late afternoon sky and feeling her heart as heavy and dark as the rain that is now falling outside.

_'He asked about Mac.'_ Don had told her, sending a chill all the way down to her feet at the thought that someone evil was still thinking about her husband in a terrifying way.

"I'll kill him personally if he ever tries to hurt Mac again," her fists ball tightly as the words escape her lips. She picks up the key to their bedroom and slowly makes her way toward the door, her heart rate rising with each step she takes. She stops and listens; hearing only a few soft grunts and whispered curses; she pauses and wait for silence once again.

Not really wanting to wake him from his much needed slumber but not wanting him to spend so much time alone, her mind wages a mental battle as her fingers hover around the key hole; not able to push the key all the way inside. She finally does and then takes a deep breath and slowly pushes the door open.

"Mac," she whispers in misery as she spies his frame curled into the fetal position. She turns up the heat and then very carefully makes her way over toward her side of the bed; wanting so desperately to hold him in her arms; wanting to know that he's safe and she'll never let him go.

She eases herself into bed and then stops a few feet away, wanting his subconscious to adjust to the idea of her being in the same bed as him; their bed. Without saying a word she very carefully pulls the warm covers over him and then feels herself cringe when she touches his clammy body; damp from the sweat but slightly trembling.

"I uh...St..." his voice mumbles incoherently as he tries to pull from sleep; but she is thankful when he doesn't fully awaken; knowing that it's sheer fatigue alone that is keeping him in the darkness.

She lightly drapes her arm around his shoulder and offers a small reassuring squeeze; his body slightly tensing and then jerking in response.

"I...no," he mumbles again but doesn't awaken.

"You are safe Mac," she promises.

Finally she feels him succumbing to her presence; allowing her to hold onto him; her heart never wanting to let him go. And as she plants a soft kiss beside his ear Dr. Adams words come back to her mind full force.

_'The first step is always the hardest Stella.'_

_'First step?__ What is that?'_

_'Acceptance and for each person and each experience it's different.'_

_'How will I know with Mac?'_

_'Trust me Stella, it might be something as small as allowing you to be close, or just holding your hand, but when it happens you'll know. After that the next few steps won't seem as scary.'_

And as she allows Mac's body to try to relax in her grasp she has to wonder if Dr. Adams would be right; would the next days and weeks ahead be less scary? Especially when a man was threatening to escape and finish what he started? The life and very mental sanity of her beloved husband still in the balance?

* * *

**A/N:** okay so hope this chapter wasn't too draggy and hope you are all not bored yet. This story is also emotionally draining to write so will try not to dwell on too many morbid details but at the same time I want it to be a bit realistic. Hope it doesn't seem I am rushing things but you all know I like a fast pace hehe. Please tell me if I am still doing a good job with this and thanks for reading!


	9. Back to Reality?

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 9 - Back to Reality?**

* * *

As soon as he felt the added warmth on his frame from Stella's body, his trembling eased and Mac's mind seemed to drift into a plane that was temporarily free from the horrible images that Maurice Wicks haunting words wanted to offer. But that freedom was very often short lived. He would see himself helpless, tied up, gagged and then assaulted; Stella walking away in disapointment as Wicks laughed in the background. But as soon as her arms would tighten around him, his trembling eases once more and Wicks image quickly fades.

Mac slowly opens his eyes about half hour later, Stella's body still pressed up against his and his anxiety starting to awaken once more. He feels her lap pressing into his backside and immediately his throat tightens as he remembers Wicks cutting his prison uniform open and then his hands fondling his ass.

"Stop..." his soft words quickly pull Stella from her sleep.

"It's okay Mac," she tries to soothe as his body tenses in her grasp. "You are at home and safe."

"I hate this..."

"Mac."

"You're treating me like a child!" He lightly hisses as he tries to pull free of her grasp.

"I'm concerned."

"I don't care!"

"I do!" She snaps in return, forcing him to slightly twist his head around and face her with a puzzled expression. "Go ahead and yell Mac because you obviously want to get something off your chest."

"I HATE THIS!"

"I DO TOO!" She counters as she carefully moves herself so that he's able to lie on his back, looking up at her. "That felt good."

"Why?" He queries with a frown.

"Because sometimes you just need to let it out."

"No. Why are you still here?"

"What?" Stella asks in shock, her lips offering a nervous chuckle but her mind and heart knowing it wasn't accompanied by laughter. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Here with me."

"I will not answer that."

"Stella..."

"Mac, I love you."

"But I wasn't able..."

"Wasn't able to what?"

"Nothing."

"Don't do that Mac, talk to me. What weren't you able to do?"

"Stop it from happening."

"Stop what?"

"Stella..."

"Mac."

"Any of it."

"Such as?"

"That's it."

"But..."

"Please, I just want to forget it all."

"Do you want to have a warm shower? Your body is kinda clammy from the sweats," she notes as her fingers rest on his damp neck, her words not allowing him a reprieve to dwell in his mis-guided misery. "And then do you want to eat?"

"No."

"Mac if I have to drag you out of this bed I am willing to try. You need to calm your nerves and you need to eat and that is an order."

Mac looks up at her with a worried frown. "Why can't I ever win with you?"

"Because you know in your heart and in your thick head that if the situation was reversed you'd do the same for me. You'd never let me wallow."

"I am not wallowing."

"Mac you'd never let me just waste away then...whatever word you want to use. Want to tell me anything more that happened?" She asks softly.

"You saw all that happened," Mac offers in half truth; hoping she'll not try to pry further and just believe that Wicks wasn't able to touch him in any way; that Wicks wasn't able to succeed in getting inside his head or making him feel vulnerable and dirty.

"Okay fine," Stella nods her head as her fingers rest on his chest. "Need some help?"

"I am not weak!" Mac snaps in haste.

"Are you going to shut me down and yell at me every time I want to offer you a gesture of love?"

"I don't need help, I am not weak."

"Mac, no one would ever think you're weak," she insists.

"I was."

"You're not any longer."

Mac feels a small lump form in his throat, wanting more than anything to argue and tell her that he was weak, that he wasn't able to fight back, that he allowed himself to be fooled by his own pride and arrogance; two qualities that nearly cost him his very life. His dignity already tarnished.

"I'll have a shower," Mac finally gives in; feeling his body starting to suffer from the heat loss as she gradually pulls away.

"I'll start up a fire and then start an early dinner. And then you can just rest okay. I would suggest for you to stay home tomorrow but I doubt you'll listen."

"I'm sick of staying home Stella."

"You look tired Mac."

"I...I am tired but I can't just stay home."

"You have been home one day Mac, the rest of the time..."

"I know where I was!" Mac once again allows his temper to flare; his expression turning remorseful when she pulls back. His eyes finally leave hers and then slowly trail her perfect skin to the slight mark his earlier actions had produced. His fingers finally rest on her cheek just below the slightly red mark, his eyes closing for a few seconds. "Will be better for both of us."

"What will be better for me is if you stay and rest one more day," she tells him as she leans in closer and plants a tender kiss on his forehead. "I'll see you in the living room when you are done."

Mac watches her leave and then uses up whatever bit of strength his rest garnered to slam his fist into a nearby pillow. _She can't understand how I feel, she just can't know. _He hopes and prays that she'll take him at his word and not try to see what was on the rest of the tapes. _What if she sees when I was first attacked? How um..._his voice trails off in his mind as his body feels Wicks hands on it again. With another whispered curse Mac slowly pushes himself upright and then rests on the edge of the bed until the room stops spinning; his hands supporting his head.

"I am hungry," he finally acknowledges to the stillness around him. He once again hears Stella humming to herself in the other room and feels his face wince at his own stupidity. _If I keep pushing her away will she leave for good? Why would she want a man that is broken? What would she think if she knew the truth? She can't know...she can never know._

Mac gets some fresh clothes to wear and then slowly wanders into the bathroom, closing the door and looking at his rough appearance in the mirror.

"I need a shave," he notes with a heavy sigh as he reaches for his razor. With the cuts and bruises his regular morning routine takes a bit longer than normal but he doesn't care; he just needs to look like the man he was before he offered his life and soul to the devil itself.

"What have I done?" Mac whispers in horror as he's finished with the razor and then slowly lifts his sweater over his head. He gazes at the ugly marks around his bandaged ribs and turns away in sorrow. With his back to the mirror he slowly starts to finish undressing, his mind trying to push aside the image of Maurice Wicks watching him enter the shower room. But just as he reaches his black underwear he stops.

_'I like black...'_

Mac turns around only to see Wicks image appear in the bathroom mirror, causing him to offer a small gasp and then stumble backward.

"Oh god no," he states in a mild panic as his back slams into the door and his lips over another painful heave of air.

"Mac!" Stella asks in concern from the other side.

"I'm okay," he lies. "Just tripped."

"Want me to shower with you?"

"I am not a damn baby Stella!" Mac snaps.

"I meant in a _fun_ way," she finishes with a heavy sigh.

"Oh."

"I'll see you when you are finished."

Mac hears the hurt in her voice and curses himself once more. _I can't live like this. Maybe I should go to a hotel until this is over. _But until what is over? It is over, his brain reminds him. Wicks is in jail and Ron Knight will get his early release. _I have to live like this for the rest of my life. _

"I can't live like this," Mac utters once more before he turns on the hot water and finally finishes shedding all his clothing. But as soon as he pulls the shower door open, his eyes are now examining his own home for anything intrusive that doesn't belong.

Mac's lips finally offer a heavy sigh as he stands underneath the hot streams and true to Stella's words, despite the stinging as the liquid dances with the cuts, his trembling starts to ease. _I have to go back to work tomorrow. I have to show everyone that I am okay and...and that he'll never beat me._

Mac finally finishes his shower and just as he reaches for a towel to cover himself, Stella pushes the door open and gazes at her naked husband with a sad smile.

"I'll be out in a few minutes," Mac states in haste as he tries to cover himself up.

"I have seen you naked before Mac."

"Stella..."

"I um," she starts as her eyes look at the ugly bruises on his smooth chest. "I have some cream for those."

"I don't need it," Mac grumbles as he finally succeeds in wrapping the towel around his waist.

"It will help them heal faster."

"I am fine."

Stella leans in a bit closer, her fingers resting on his bare shoulder, her brain delighting in the feel of his warm flesh connecting with hers. "You are more than fine Mac."

"Stella," he tries to protest. "I'm uh..." he tries.

_Remeber Stella, _Dr. Adam's voice comes back to her mind. _Don't treat him differently. When you see him naked for the first time, he might shy away but don't let him and just go with your feelings. If you pull back, he'll feel it, think it's him and it will be harder for him to get back to the way he was before this all happened._

"I missed you Mac," she whispers as she leans in closer, his warm, freshly cleaned body tempting hers instantly. But before she can plant a kiss on his lips he pulls back and looks at her with a frown. "Mmm not fair to tempt me like this Mac."

"Stella I um..."

"No one here but us Mac."

"I should dress."

"Are you sure?" She inquires with a warm smile.

"I...I am," Mac sighs.

"Okay then," she stammers as she stands back and looks at him in mild surprise; unsure of what to say next and not wanting to provoke a fight of any kind. She quickly takes her leave and then heads into the kitchen, nervously pacing and hating the helpless feeling she's being forced into that is allowing more tension to build. Of course he looks like hell but she wasn't going to force sex upon him; but seeing him naked she was unable, especially after he had been away to just control her desire for him completely; she wants him, her body needs him. She watches Mac finally enter the kitchen and look at her with a pensive gaze.

"Dinner is ready," she gestures to the table that is already set. She watches as he slowly eases himself down onto the chair, his eyes immediately turning toward the TV before he looks back down at his meal.

"So what was the food like in there?"

"Wasn't that hungry most of the time."

"What did you have for supper?"

"It was um...I don't remember," Mac frowns as he looks back down at his meal and then at the TV.

Stella quickly flips the TV off and rests her fingers on Mac. "Talk to me Mac."

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Anything? I can understand your um..."

"My what? My what Stella? Huh? What about what you say?" Mac snaps in anger, forcing her fingers to retract and her posture to stiffen. "Want to say I told you so?"

"What? No."

"Why not? I brought it upon myself right!" Mac continues to growl. "I volunteered to go in there!"

"You thought you were helping."

"I was the one who said there wouldn't be anything to worry about!"

"Mac you are alive and..."

"I was the one who thought I could save the whole damn world when I couldn't even save MYSELF!" He finishes with a flushed face. "Is that WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?"

"Fine I told you so! There do you feel better?"

"No, because it's a lie."

"You're damn right it's a lie! I don't blame you and I never will!" She states firmly, not backing down. "None of this is your fault!"

"Stella."

"No Mac, you are sitting there feeling sorry for yourself for God knows what reason? Only he must know because I DON'T!" She growls angrily in return. "I am only trying to help and..." her voice breaks as it trails off.

"Stella," Mac tries again.

"No Mac, I can't live like this. I only want to help. I haven't seen you in a week and then you come home...distant."

"I am changed! Can't you see that?"

"You said nothing happened! Did you lie?"

"No," Mac starts and then quickly stops. "There wasn't time."

"I just wanted to make small talk Mac about whatever else you did there."

"I did nothing else."

"Want to tell me about Ron Knight?"

"He helped me."

"Right," Stella just shakes her head as she flips the TV back on.

"Stella...you don't understand."

"No Mac, its fine. You want to lock me out I guess you'll have to decide when to let me back in. You're in control right?"

"Right," he resigns as he leans back in his chair, looking at her in remorse. _TELL HER_! His brain screams along with his heart. _I can't, _he tries to argue back. _I can't tell her everything Wicks didI just can't. _She'll expect you to be back to normal then. _I'll never be normal again. _Never?

The rest of their supper was spent in tormented silence with each only offering small snippets to the other; Mac hardly eating his food. After he sets his fork down for the last time, Stella notices that not much is eaten but knows to press would probably garner another sharp outburst and so refrains; instead only offering a kind smile in return.

"I know you are mad."

"Mad?" Stella arches a brow. "Not mad, just saddened. I feel like I am walking on eggshells around my husband, partner and best friend of over ten years."

"Want me to stay at a hotel?"

"Maybe I should instead."

"Why Stella?"

"Mac I am not having this conversation with you. Neither of us have to leave; I mean shesh you just got back home. You seem so distant."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry just help me understand what is going on with you."

"I just need this all to be over; I'm fine," he insists through a thin veneer of lies.

"You don't look fine and you hardly ate anything."

"I'm just not...I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Okay I'll clean up then."

Mac offers her a nod, coupled with a heavy sigh before he pushes himself away from the table and slowly wanders back down the hall toward the bedroom. Stella waits until the door is closed before she calls Dr. Adams for some much needed help.

"Oh Ben I'm so worried about him. He yells, he's angry, withdrawn. He won't eat, he's hardly slept and he keeps telling me he's fine. I know those are all classic symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder but I only want to help and every time I try he yells at me not to treat him like a weakling or that I wouldn't understand and that he should go to a hotel; which is absurd."

_"Normally I wouldn't say this, but maybe for Mac, getting back to work is the only thing that will help him to get back to himself faster than by just staying home and resting. For each person it's different and this situation is different from the time he lost Claire."_

"Mac's never been that guy. And unless ordered he never takes a day off; even just to relax. I mean it's gotten better in the past two years since we've been married but even still when I am working and he isn't he still comes into the lab to just...well to just be there."

_"There is where Mac feels in control. Did he sleep much today?"_

"Not much and hardly ate anything. He looks pale and weak and I'm worried about him tomorrow."

_"What will happen is he will go in to work tomorrow, think he can just get back to his regular routine, realize he can't, get tired really fast and then either tell you or just come home and eat or sleep; which is normal in this case."_

"He said he wasn't um...well fully sexually assaulted and...I really want to believe him Ben but...do you think he's lying? I have tried to be...well as normal as I can in an intimate setting but he pulls back like he's afraid to be intimate again."

_"Mac isn't lying. I have dealt with many cases of men who have been sexually assaulted and especially if it was forcibly he would have acted differently. He wouldn't have wanted to sit up that's for sure or even let me examine him in certain...well areas as much as he did. I think he experienced something pretty frightening but...what did he tell you?"_

"Not much. I mean from what I saw he was tied up and being beaten."

_"And his prison uniform was cut all the way open in the back. Stella, if someone hadn't shown up when they did, he would have experienced a full sexual assault. That is probably what is his biggest nightmare."_

"But he was rescued in time."

_"For a man that has worked in a control position all his life, to suddenly have that taken away by whatever means will play on his subconscious a lot. We don't know what words were spoken but sometimes words can have a far scarier affect on the mind than a mere physical beating. Mac, I'm guessing sustained both."_

"How can I help him?"

_"The physical trauma will heal in no time and on the outside Mac will appear to be the same guy he was before this happened. You just need to watch for his psychological changes. Severe mood swings, panic attacks, avoidance behavior to stuff he wouldn't normally avoid; depression; suicidal notions; increased or prolonged anger or irritability; unable to do normal daily tasks; crying; violence. Gosh Stella the list could go on. I mean each major characteristic I just gave has its own sub-categories and even then those vary from person to person. The most important thing to watch is, is Mac getting back to himself or is he refusing. You'll be able to tell as the days pass."_

"How long? I know it's different and I doubt you can answer but...it's just so hard to see him like this and be around him when I want to help and he won't let me."

_"He wants help Stella, he just can't ask for it. For a man it's usually pride and embarrassment. He's probably been told all his life that to show any kind of weakness is something unacceptable. Whether it's by his father, the marine core or even society in general."_

"And if he won't change? Or worse does something to himself, me or the team that...Ben what if he needs real help?"

_"You mean like a physiatrist? There is one fellow that I would recommend for Mac's case. He's had primary experience in helping men dealing with PTSD when it comes to sexual assault, assault and other bodily inflictions. And he's dealt with ex-army types. But we'll use that as a last resort."_

"How will I know?"

_"When Mac does something so out of character for him, you'll know. And at that time you come to me and I will back you."_

"Won't he feel like we're ganging up on him?"

_"Would rather have him alive and thinking that than something else. Wouldn't you?"_

"You know the answer to that."

_"Did you get a chance to read any of that stuff I left for you and him?"_

"I did but I doubt Mac did."

_"He will. Probably won't admit it. Mac is one stubborn bastard," Dr. Adams lightly chuckles. "But he'll come around. He's faced a severe stressor when Claire died and although this is different he'll pull through and be stronger for it. Let me know if there is anything else I can do."_

Stella thanks Dr. Adams, hangs up and then goes about her task of cleaning the table; her mind and heart anxious as to Mac's absence and what he is doing. She finishes up and then goes in search of her elusive husband, very carefully pushing the door open and seeing him passed out on the bed, his fists curled tightly around her pillow; but his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. Knowing she doesn't have the heart to wake him, she quietly retrieves something to sleep in and then heads back into the living room.

Despite the fact that she wants Mac just to stay home tomorrow and do nothing but rest, she ponders Dr. Adams advice and finds herself believing it to be right. _Mac will just do what he can and then leave when he feels he must. _He won't be himself for a few days but if he keeps his mind occupied with work then maybe it will help him heal faster.

She arranges the couch and then settles down under the heavy blanket, wanting more than anything to feel Mac's strong arms holding her close, his lips telling her how much he missed and loves her and that he's going to be okay. She had told herself that Mac was going to walk out of that jail with a triumphant smile on his handsome face, take her into his arms and then make love to her that night with such passion to make up for the week prior.

But he didn't; instead he was carried out on a stretcher a different man than went in, a different man than she knew.

"Mac," she whispers in anguish as she hears his angry cries in the other room followed by silence. Try as she might to close her eyes and pray for sleep to overtake her, she knows that solid sleep is the last thing either of them will find tonight or the nights to come. But just as she's about to close her eyes once more, she hears the door open and suddenly her heart quickens pace.

With his mind in agony and turmoil; Mac pulls himself from another fitful bout of horrific nightmares; once again Wicks succeeding but this time him taking his own life to deal with the shame. He offers a soft curse, telling himself that he just needs to get back to work and all will be okay; he'll be back in charge and the helpless feeling will leave.

"I need a drink," he mumbles to himself, once again falsely reasoning that he'll be able to drown out the images with something hard and strong. He slowly wanders into the hallway, his eyes darting nervously around to see where Stella was. He finally notices her asleep on the couch and feels his shoulders sag instantly.

_All she wanted to do was help and I threw it back in her face, _his brain laments in sorrow. _As soon as I'm back at work everything will be better. I'll just forget all this and everything will be better. _

Mac reaches the kitchen and then heads for their small liquor cabinet and grabs the bottle of whiskey. But just as he turns around to get a small glass, his lips utter a gasp of shock as he looks at Stella in surprise.

"Please don't do this Mac. This isn't you," she tries to reason as her hand reaches for the bottle.

"I just need to calm my nerves Stella."

"Then let me make you some tea."

"I don't drink tea and haven't had...what is wrong with one drink?"

"You hardly ate supper and now you want to put that poison into your system? It'll just make you sicker," Stella pleads as her fingers latch onto the bottle and start to engage in a small tug of war with her husband.

"I just need something."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No. Why the hell is that always the answer with you?"

"Because it's a hell of a lot better than your idea which is to kill yourself. Is that what you want?"

"Maybe!"

Stella lets go of the bottle, offers an ethnic curse and turns her back to Mac, folding her arms over her chest. "Fine Mac!"

"Damn it, I hate this!" Mac curses as he firmly places the bottle down on the counter and gingerly touches her shoulder, forcing her to turn back with an anguished expression. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I am fine."

"See you keep saying that but I am concerned and I know you're not fine. Mac how can I not be? I haven't seen you in a week and then you come back a distant person."

"Distant? You keep saying that."

"Yes distant. Closed off, aloof...just...well that's not you."

"So what if I'm distant?" Mac asks in defense; his mind reading into the wrong meaning of the words she is offering.

"We never held anything back in the past. We used to talk about everything."

"I said I'm fine. Just wanted...gosh Stella I have had drinks in the past."

"Not to the detriment of us."

"We are fine."

"Mac you haven't even offered me a simple hug since you've returned," her voice dies out in misery.

"I'm sorry," he laments as he finally pulls her into his grasp. And although not offering her the same strong embrace he normally does, her arms wrap around him immediately and hold on as if she might never get the opportunity to hold him again.

"Whatever you are going through Mac, I want to be a part of."

"I just want to forget all this Stella."

"I just want you to be fine Mac."

"Stella..." he tries as she once again pushes her thumb to his lips.

"I want _us _to be fine Mac and I'll help you do whatever it takes to get there."

"Maybe tomorrow at work will be better," he tries. "Please?"

Stella offers a small nod behind his back, not wanting to push him away when he finally took at step to open up. "I guess I should let you get some sleep. Please though Mac, no drinking."

"I...I guess you're right," Mac stammers as he slowly places the bottle back into the small cabinet and then turns and faces Stella with an uncertain glance.

"I can sleep on the couch if you want space," she mentions carefully. "But I hope you don't want to be alone again."

"Just am very tired and..."

"Right so we'll have sex tomorrow Mac," Stella counters and his face warms, his lips wanting to twitch. "Just thought you'd be tired of sleeping alone."

"I...no it's okay we can...sure."

"Mac?"

"I don't want to be alone Stella."

"Me either."

Stella arches a brow before she gently loops her arm in Mac's and they slowly head for their bedroom in silence. Stella watches Mac ease himself down under the covers and then gets in after him. Mindful of his bruised chest and cracked ribs, she places her head near his shoulder but not wanting to cause him any more pain; just happy to be so close to his body after having to suffer alone in the large bed.

"Goodnight Mac," Stella whispers as her hand finally finds his under the covers, her fingers latching on to his cool skin and her mind delighting when his flesh starts to warm at her touch.

"Goodnight Stella," Mac replies with a heavy frown that she can't see, his mind racing as his body continues to revel in the delightful feeling of her body pressed up against his.

But as he tries to tell himself that by tomorrow he'll be back to normal, he has to wonder if he'll actually be able to push Maurice Wicks out of his head long enough to enjoy sexual relations with his wife as he did before. He finally hears her breathing starting to slow and knows she's falling asleep. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on their wedding day; anything to keep the haunting images from the past few days at bay. But each time he would drift into sleep and then be awakened by a nightmare, Stella would be there at his side; not trying to make him feel weak or helpless but just offering kind words and loving assistance in any way she could, such as getting him water or even offering a simple _'I love you.' _

And although they were able to get a bit more sleep than the night before, by the time their alarm clock went off, both awoken with tired expressions and weary bodies.

"You slept a bit better," Stella mentions as her fingers lightly brush his semi-smooth cheek.

"I feel stiff," Mac grumbles as he rolls onto his back and looks at her with a slight frown. "Tonight I'll take the couch so you can sleep."

"Trust me Mac, I've had just as much sleep as you in the past week," she tells him as she props herself up on one elbow and looks down at him with a warm smile. "Missed you though," she whispers as her free hand slowly leaves his face and starts to rest on his chest.

"Stella..."

"Shh Mac," she lovingly instructs as she leans in closer still and brushes his lips with hers; her hand continuing it's quest of moving lower; now resting near his belly button.

"Stella..." Mac tries once more as she smiles down at him.

"Just relax okay Mac?" She whispers as her hand reaches his groin and starts to gently fondle his member; prompting Mac to close his eyes.

_No stop..._his mind begs, feeling Wicks touch on him instead of Stella's. His heart rate starts to quicken as he opens his eyes and swallows back a nervous lump.

_'You have a lot to offer...' _Wicks laughs as Stella's fingers move lower.

"Stop," Mac manages weakly, forcing Stella to lock eyes in surprise; her hand remaining on his groin.

"What?"

"Please stop...just stop," he huffs as he rolls onto his side; his back to her.

"Mac, what is it?" Stella asks in confusion as she tries to turn him to face her. But instead of being greeted with his handsome face, she watches his shoulder pull away from her touch but his body doesn't budge.

"Did I hurt you?" Stella inquires as she tries to peer over his shoulder. "Mac what is going on?"

"I'm just not..."

"I was just giving you a bit of pleasure," she states with a heavy sigh. "You used to like my touch before."

"I still do I just...I'm just tired and...are you disapointed?"

"A bit surprised but I understand."

"Do you?"

"No, but I am trying," she frowns. In her mind she doesn't understand. Mac said he wasn't sexually assaulted but then pulls back when she offers him some physical stimulation. _What is going on Mac? What are you really hiding from me?_

"Stella..." Mac's soft voice breaks her thoughts.

"Nothing to worry about Mac. I just wanted to make you smile," she confesses, trying to keep her tone light so as not to give him a guilt trip of any kind and add to the further mental burden he seems to be carrying. But seeing him so solid in his stance she gives herself a shrug and then slowly exits the warm nest of covers.

"I guess we should get ready for work," she mumbles as she heads out of the bedroom and into the living room to put away her blanket and pillow from the night before.

_I can't tell her, _Mac's mind laments once more as he slowly uprights himself and then looks at the door in remorse. _I'll just go to work and get back on a case and that will be it._

Mac goes about making his bed, his senses picking up the energizing aroma of coffee as he heads toward his closet to get ready for the day. Thankful he won't have to write a report about his case; as Flack had assured him he would take care of all the paperwork, he hopes he can just enter the lab and get started on something routine.

He takes off his sleep shirt and then his sleep pants, leaving only his black underwear on as he decides what to wear.

"Missed seeing that each morning," Stella smiles as she walks up to her nearly naked husband. "Shall I show you mine?"

"Um sure."

"Gee thanks," Stella retorts with a mock frown as she leans in a bit closer. She wraps her arms around his naked body and holds on tightly, her hands resting on his lower back and moving lower toward his ass.

"I think we should..." Mac states in haste as her fingers rest on his ass and his body instinctively pulls away.

"Am I not allowed to touch you Mac?" Stella asks in confusion.

"We could be late."

"Trust me even you would choose sex over work," she stands back and looks at his face. "What is going on with you? Talk to me Mac, make me understand."

"I just got home yesterday."

"And you said everything is fine."

"Everything is."

"But I can't sexually arouse you like I used to or even give you a hug if you're not dressed?" Stella asks in wonder. "What am I missing Mac?"

"I just don't to um...to be late."

"You're the boss; trust me no one will care. We need to work this out."

"Stella we are fine."

"We sound like a broken record," she groans as she turns and heads for her own closet, her heart starting to ache with each step she takes away from him. _What is going on? _Her brain screams in frustration. _One minute he hugs me and the next he pulls away. I can't even touch him? He said he wasn't assaulted and Dr. Adams confirmed that. What is he hiding?_

Stella turns and watches Mac get dressed in silence, wanting more than anything to pry into his head and see what is going on with is odd behavior. But she tells herself that Dr. Adams said these would be normal signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and that it would take a few more days for Mac to get all the way back to the way he was before he went in to Rikers.

They finish dressing in thickening silence before Mac watches Stella head into the kitchen and then hears her softly humming; his fist gently slamming the side of the closet door in angry frustration.

_I just need time, _he tells himself. _Time to get Wicks voice out of my head and I'll be fine, to get his touches away from my um..._he tries to convince himself once more as he heads into the kitchen. Thankfully during their brief breakfast Stella tells him about the cases he missed while he was away and finally after applying some cream to his bruised cheek and applying a small fresh bandage to the cut above his eye to keep the stitches clean they both head for the door and then down toward the Avalanche.

The ride to the lab is also spent talking about anything other than Drew, Jimmy's initial call, Mac's decision and then finally what he had to endure; Mac wanted to pretend none of it had ever happened. But inside both of their minds and hearts they know that ignorance isn't bliss and this wasn't a nightmare that either were going to wake up from just like that. They finally reach the lab and exit the elevator to see Flack anxiously pacing while he waits for them to arrive.

"Hey Mac how are you feeling?" Flack asks in concern.

"Okay," Mac tells him in haste.

"We found Bart's body and Ron Knight is okay. He's asking about you. Did you want to go and se..."

"No!" Mac rushes in haste.

"Okay sorry," Flack replies with a shrug. "He just wanted to see if you were okay. Said after he res..."

"I said no," Mac insists, not wanting Flack to offer any further details about the fact that Ron Knight had rescued him from another embarrassing situation where he was helpless to defend himself against two evil men.

"Right so Maurice Wicks is in custody right now, pending a hearing as well as the other two guards. His brother Franklin Wicks has also been arrested on several other charges and Sinclair is handling his case."

"Thanks," Mac states as he pushes past them and then heads for his office, biting back his rising pain and trying to keep his oncoming panic attack at bay. But as soon as he's out of sight, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes; praying for the black circles to quickly subside.

Outside Flack looks at Stella with a frown.

"I thought he'd be happy about Ron?"

"Don, I don't know what's going on but Dr. Adams said that it'll take him at least a few days before he's back to the old Mac we know and love."

"I guess nearly um...well yeah it would be hard for any man..."

"Don, he volunteered for that assignment; I'm sure that decision is coming back to haunt him right now," Stella states with a heavy sigh as she looks in the direction of Mac's office.

"How are you?" Flack asks softly.

"About to go postal," she mentions lightly. "I know for most people coming back after only one day of rest to work after...well you know and...but I think it'll be the best thing for Mac. Dr. Adams agreed. Maybe being here will help him focus on work and..." her voice trails off, prompting Flack to gently touch her shoulder and force her eyes to look at him.

"What?"

"I am just afraid that he'll keep all the tension locked up inside and if there is something else that is troubling him not talking about it and then doing something rash. I mean Mac was a marine and is used to being in control all the time and...well you saw him in that room and..."

"He'll have nightmares for sure," Flack states softly. "Did he sleep at all last night?"

"Not very much. At least he didn't throw up. Was better than the night before but not by much. I guess each night will be a bit more and more but I mean Mac didn't sleep at the best of times. Now when his body needs it the mosthe's fighting it. I mean I can understand the nightmares butoh I hate to play the over concerned wife card," she pauses as Flack's lips offer a kind smile.

"If you didn't, Mac would be worried."

"He is so withdrawn and despondent at times."

"I'm sure after today he'll be tired but fine. Once he has his mind back on work, he'll be okay. Is he different in any other way?"

"He won't admit it to me, but he is. It's hard to explain but I know him so well so know when things are off," she looks back at Mac's office with a heavy heart. "I just hope it's not to the detriment of himself or us."

"He's not that guy Stella. He's faced worse, hell he's got a scare to prove he nearly died. I'm sure once he has a few days of rest and back into the routine of work he'll be fine. Besides Maurice Wicks is locked away in jail. He can't hurt Mac any more."

"Might be nice if maybe you went and talked to him," Stella suggests. Flack looks at her with a frown. His mind had been racing as to his initial meeting with Mac after he partially agreed to this whole thing in the first place. But now with Mac back in the lab, he finds his own anxiety building.

"I might later."

"Don."

"Stella, it's not easy for me either. I mean to face him. I agreed to this and...what would I say? What if he blames me? I blame me."

"You know Mac never would."

"Not openly," Flack groans as he looks away from Mac and back at Stella. "I'll try...later."

"Don," she tries again.

"Later Stella," he tries to assure her; his own mind wanting to exit the area for fear that on his first day back, Mac would be reminded of his terrible decision and actually blame him in some way. _I do feel somehow responsible, _Flack's mind offers.

"What is it?"

"Wicks is away from him now Stella. He can't hurt him again," Flack tries to assure her once more. "Things should get better right?"

XXXXXXXX

Mac stands in the middle of his office; his panic starting to build. He closes his eyes momentarily to hopefully get the room to stop spinning and the on set of his mild panic attack to subside.

"I can do this," he commands himself as he heads for his leather desk chair. "I will not allow Wicks to win."

He eases himself down into the plush leather, his body offering an involuntary groan as his tender ribs and bruised frame connect with the chair, his stomach still tight with nervous anxiety. He had told himself in the morning that he would be faced with questions from the team but would just tell them the sting was a success and he wasn't allowed to say anything further; hoping they would get the hint and just drop it. Stella had already assured him that Flack had told the team the same story, so in reality he shouldn't face too many prying questions.

Flack knows the truth and Stella as well but tells himself that is it and with Wicks in jail he will be fine; this is all over for good. He feels happy that Ron Knight was able to help and was found alive, sad that Bart had to pay the ultimate sacrifice for his knowledge and that Ron's testimony and what is on the footage from the glasses should be the nail in Wicks coffin. At least he tells himself that, mostly to convince his own worried mind that his future really is safe from any further ugly acts; purported by a man still cursing his name and vowing revenge to get even, wanting to finish what he had started with the one that got away.

Mac looks at the case file before him, flips it open and finally feels his mind starting to settle a little. Never in his life would he have imagined that looking at a dead body would be comforting, but it forced his mind to push his own mental torment to the back and focus on someone else for the first time in days. But as he tries to reach for a pen, he notices his fingers slightly trembling and puts the pen back down.

"I can do this," he tells himself once more as he tries to get his nerves to settle so he can concentrate on doing his job. Telling himself he'll have a solid lunch and dinner he picks the pen back up and tries to concentrate on the findings before him, not wanting the team to see him in a state that would once again arouse suspicion. But just as he's about to go in search of one of his team the phone rings and his original course is immediately altered; altered by the voice of the devil himself.

_"Hello Detective Taylor, did miss me?"_

* * *

**A/N:** Well I think this chapter is a bit shorter but hope that's okay and that you are all still interested in where the story is going and want to see how it all unfolds. And yes Mac will tell STella all that happened so don't lose heart, our SMACKED will prevail and get back to where they were before. Thanks in advance so much!


	10. One step Forward, Two steps Back?

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 10 - One step Forward, Two steps Back?**

**A/N: **Sorry in advance that this chapter is so long! Eeks and hope you like it :D

* * *

Mac feels his whole world coming to a crashing halt as the twisted voice of Maurice Wicks dances about in his head.

"How the hell!"

_"You know you lied to me."_

"How did you get this number?" Mac growls in anger.

_"I like when you are mad. Really turns me on. Does it get you hard also?"_

"Listen to me you sick piece of garbage..."

_"Oh I'm willing to bet you miss me. I know you like it rough Mac. You know I like Mac almost as much as I like Mark, with one exception."_

"You are going to rot in hell for the rest of your life you sick bastard!"

_"Want to know the exception?"_

"I am done..."

_"Damn it boy next time I'm gonna keep you gagged for sure!" Wicks laughs. "Not that I mind though."_

"There won't be a next time."

_"Again with the interruptions.__ Want to know the exception?"_

"This call..."

_"Very well.__ The exception is that Detective Mac Taylor got away from me. AND NO ONE GETS AWAY FROM ME!"_

"You're finished Wicks. I have eye witness testimony that..."

_"Right some two bit loser that I can easily discredit."_

"I have video footage that..."

_"Shows me getting off on a little rough kinky sex?"_

"Against my will!"

_"You liked it Taylor."_

"I am going to hang up and call your..."

_"Bye for now Mac. Just wanted to say that I am still thinking about you and I will see you again. I will have you again and I WILL FINISH WHAT I STARTED!"_

Mac goes to offer another word when the line goes dead in his ear; forcing him to slam the phone down and curse heavily, bringing Stella into his office in a hurry. She looks at his flushed face and clenched fists and knows that something just went very wrong.

"Mac? What is it?"

"It's nothing."

"Mac?"

"Stella, I can fight my down damn battles!" He growls, his voice raising and then immediate dropping. "Sorry. I said I'm fine."

"Was that Sinclair?"

"No, it was a wrong number!"

Stella looks at him in concern, her heart rate rising steadily. "I don't know what to say."

"There is nothing to say."

"No Mac, I mean right now...to comfort you as your wife and partner and best friend."

"There is nothing to say. It was a wrong number and trust me it's the last one of its kind!" He states sharply. "I don't want you or anyone else treating me like a weakling."

"How about a human being who seems stressed?"

"I am fine, please Stella. If you start drawing attention to me then the team will and..." his voice trails off as he slumps down in his chair.

His words and demeanour tell her what he's afraid of most, looking and acting _different_ to the team; drawing attention to himself in ways he doesn't want to have to explain more than she knows he will. She gives him a firm nod and then swallows a small lump of her own anxiety. But as she carefully studies his face and then slowly drops her glance to his now trembling hands she knows there was more to the call than he'll admit.

_Was it Sinclair? Or perhaps Jimmy? _Thinking that Wicks is still in prison and not allowed to call anyone, much less the one person he was arrested for trying to forcibly assault, she doesn't give his name a second thought; not realizing that man she is married to is still a target of and being taunted by a man out for revenge.

"I gotta help Danny with something but if you feel the need to talk..."

"I don't want to talk to a stranger!"

"I'm your wife! If we lived apart maybe you'd have that excuse but we are married, remember Mac."

"I didn't mean you," Mac quickly backs down. "I meant...someone else. And I don't want to talk about it here."

"Mac..."

"Stella..." Mac starts only to have Stella hold up her hand and stop his words.

"Mac please allow me to play the overly concerned wife card _in this setting_ just this once."

"Only once?" Mac asks lightly and her face softens.

"Maybe once _today_," she retorts with a smile. "The more you shut me out Mac, the more harm it will do to you; the more harm to us. Whatever you tell me you know stays with me right?"

"I know and I love you for that Stella. But I have to fight this on my own."

"See that is where you are wrong. You don't have to be alone, not on any field in this fight; I am always at your side. You are not alone."

"Not here, please?"

"Okay fine, but if you feel the need go home and rest or eat or whatever just do it. But if you are still here at lunch we are eating together and that's final."

"Can't win this can I?"

"Nope."

Mac watches her leave and then reaches for the phone, eyeing his shaking hand and allowing it to rest before he thinks of making a call. _'There will be a next time...I will finish what I started.'_

"Never...will never happen," Mac shakes his head, adding more tension to his already tightening stomach. But as Maurice Wicks face appears before him once more, a twisted smile before he licks his lips, Mac feels his stomach starting to lurch and quickly heads for the bathroom. He throws up what little bit of breakfast he had ingested and then leans against the side of the bathroom stall with his eyes closed.

"Damn bastard," he curses as he slowly opens the door. But just as he does another man walks into the bathroom with a similar resemblance to Wicks.

"Hello Detective Taylor," the man greets casually.

"Go to hell!" Mac snaps as he rushes past with an angry scowl. The man watches in wonder before he offers him a shrug and then disappears behind closed doors; taking away a bit of gossip fodder to some nosey co-workers about their fearless leader. "Ah damn it!"

"Mac!" Sheldon calls as he hurries up to him.

"What is it?" Mac answers in haste, prompting Sheldon to look at him in wonder.

"Ok-ay...it was work related."

"Right, sorry."

"You okay? Your face is flushed?"

"I'm fine. What is it?"

"Got a new case and Danny and Stella are busy. Wasn't sure you were feeling up to it..."

"I need the distraction."

"How did it go? The FBI case?"

Mac looks at the genuine expression on his junior team member's face and knows that Sheldon is just asking what he knew they would; he looks like hell and they are curious.

"There was a fight but the sting was successful."

"Ah good to hear," Sheldon replies with a tight smile. And unlike the other man in the bathroom, Sheldon knows enough to preserve Mac's good name and just leave it at the fact that he was in one hell of a fight but lived to tell the tale and is probably just tired. He wasn't about to be the person to spread or start any kind of gossip.

The drive to the crime scene for Mac was mostly spent listening to Sheldon give him some of the details that Flack called in to them; his mind still reeling from Maurice Wicks call. Before he went into the field with Sheldon he had made a call to the guard that was watching Wicks; the conversation was just as disturbing as Wicks call itself.

_'I'm sorry Detective Taylor, Maurice Wicks isn't allowed to make calls, especially as you say to a man that had him arrested for...well you know.'_

_'He called me.'_

_'Did he give his name?'_

_'No but...'_

_'I assure you he made no calls. I hope you are not calling me a liar.'_

_'I will find out the truth.'_

Mac had asked Adam to run a trace back on the last number that dialed his and was told it came from the Rikers complex but wasn't able to narrow it down to one specific area.

"Damn bastard," Mac curses under his breath once more, garnering a quick glance from the man in the driver's seat.

"Mac?" Sheldon inquires.

"Nothing," Mac replies with a sigh as he looks back out the window; making a mental note to talk to Flack as soon as he was at the scene. They finally arrive and Mac feels his inner apprehension starting to grow as battered condition draws some immediate attention from various officers.

"Hey Mac."

"Jessica, where's Don? Thought he called this in?"

"He did and then he went to another. I'm here to help, is that okay?" She asks with a kind smile.

"That's fine," he frowns as he looks at the male body before them. _Is Don now avoiding me also? Does he think me so different now? Maybe he doesn't want to say I told you so? Maybe he does? Oh I hate this! _"What do we have?"

Jessica starts into her explanation but Mac's eyes fix on the slightly distorted body and his mind starts to race.

_'White male, wrists cuffed, beaten pretty bad. One possibly two perps...'_

"Mac?" Sheldon gently touches his arm, forcing Mac's brain to quickly snap from its stupor. "You kinda zoned out there."

"Let's get started."

Sheldon offers a shrug as he heads for the head of the lifeless corpse and gets to work. Mac picks up the camera and slowly heads for the feet, ending beside two officers just hovering over the body.

"Damn can't imagine feeling that helpless..." he hears one of them mention.

"Sure would suck for a guy to be found like this..."

"Couldn't imagine what it would be like for his friends or family..."

"Pretty humiliating for a man..."

"Hey Mac what do you think?"

"About what?" Mac answers, not looking at either of them but continuing to take scene photos.

"What do you think this guy must have been thinking as he was getting his life beaten out of him?"

"How the hell would I know?" Mac growls in a loud tone, once again forcing those around to look at him in surprise.

"Hey man I meant no offense. I mean you look like you were in a fight yourself."

"It's none of your damn business," he counters as he pulls back and shakes his head as he walks away.

"What the hell is his problem?" One asks the other.

"Maybe he's trying to do his job and is annoyed because you aren't doing yours," Jessica pipes up, making both uniformed officers to look at her with mild disdain.

"She gets it from her partner, Don Flack. He's also lippy."

"Want to see what else I got from him?"

"Yeah whatever," the other mumbles as they finally take their leave.

"I don't need everyone looking at me," Mac mutters under his breath.

"Those two need to grow up," Sheldon offers casually.

Mac offers a silent thank you along with an appreciative nod toward his team member but knows that if he doesn't keep himself in check the next person making comments about his appearance or behavior will be his boss, Sinclair. So far he's only had to return one text message but knows that won't be the last if he's reported.

Mac finishes up his task of the pictures and then reaches for his evidence kit. He looks at the mans wrists cruelly trapped behind his back with what appears to be a custom set of handcuffs and feels his stomach tighten once more.

_'I like them...keeps me in control...always gotta appear in control...' _Wicks had told him the first time he slapped the cuffs on his wrists.

Feeling Sheldon's eyes on him once more, Mac quickly gets to work, trying to ignore images himself being flashed before his eyes as his gloved fingers carefully work around the bloodstained restraint.

XXXXXXXX

By the time Stella finishes with Danny, lunch is almost over and Mac still wasn't back. Thankfully Danny had only asked how Mac was and she had told him what Sinclair had briefed them on. When Mac got back all they could say was the operation was a success. But since Mac looked like he had been in a bad fight, she had to mention that but said he was okay; hoping her team wouldn't call her on her lie.

She looks up and sees Sheldon finally enter with a slight frown and walks up to him. "How did it go?"

"He was a bit testy with a few officers but they were out of line in their comments to him. Oh they weren't bad comments just stuff about the vic that shouldn't have been uttered."

"Such as?"

"One just asked what Mac thought about what the guy must have been thinking as he was restrained and then beaten to death?"

"Where is Mac?"

"With Sid in autopsy, getting a few things and then he'll join us."

Wanting more than anything to go and see, she knows that by crowding him or seeming overly concerned at all times, will just drive him crazy and so opts to remain where she is and continue working until Mac appears with the rest of the evidence for them to examine. _Oh Mac, I just pray you are doing okay._

"This guy put up one hell of a fight before he was subdued," Sid starts into his autopsy as he fetches some heavy metal cutters to release the cuffs so that Mac can take them to process.

"His left shoulder was dislocated and his right wrist was fractured and..."

_'Mac your left shoulder is dislocated and your right wrist is fractured...' _Dr. Adams words slam into him with unseen force.

"Mac?" Sid asks gently.

"Shoulder and wrist, what else."

"You kinda zoned out there. You know you could be hypoglycemic. The best..."

"Sid?"

"Well you could be?" Sid shrugs as he hands the cutters to Mac. "Want to do the honors?"

"No."

"Oh okay," Sid takes the cutters back with a frown and then waits for Mac to get ready to remove them. "You can tell by the strain on the wrists that were behind his back..." Sid's voice trails off as Mac's mind drifts into darkness once again.

_'Cuff em behind his back...gives me more access to his front...' _he hears Wicks taunting him in the library as George wrestles with him. Mac feels his wrists being trapped in the cold steel; trapped behind his back as he's held in George's grasp. The cloth is shoved into his mouth just as he tries to call for help; Wicks fingers on his groin.

"Mac?" Sid's voice, sounding distant calls to him once more.

Mac's eyes remain fixed on the dead body on the table before him. He absently watches Sid place the cut cuffs down on a small tray and then offer them to him; placing them back down when his hands dont extend to receive them.

_'You have a lot to offer me Mac...I'LL FINISH WHAT I STARTED!'_

But just as soon as Sid slowly turns the body over, Mac sees his own face and immediately turns and throws up onto the floor beside him; mostly water and bile but enough to draw the fatherly attention of the man beside him. Still in a mental haze, Mac feels Sid's arms holding him keep upright as he's helped over to a small bench. But just before he can sit down, he finally manages to pull himself out of his nightmarish fog and look at Sid in remorse.

"Maybe you should just rest Mac," Sid suggests.

"Just a touch of the flue, I'm fine. I just need some fresh air."

"Okay I'll just..." Sid starts as Mac pushes himself away and heads for the back exit door. "Send this stuff upstairs. Mac?"

Mac reaches the alley, his heart racing, his brow damp and his stomach about to give way once more.

_'Time to see all you have to offer us Mac...'_

"Go...away!" He tries with a dry cough.

_'I like black Mac...your ass is...'_

"GO...AWAY!" He tries again; his throat raw and stomach on fire. He quickly brushes away the small beads of sweat on his forehead and hurries down the alley; getting into the first cab and then offering his home address. He closes his eyes and prays he won't pass out until he's in the safe confines of his apartment; a place he tells himself Maurice Wicks cannot hurt him.

XXXXXXXX

Stella sees Sid walking toward her with a tray of items in his hands and greets him with a tense smile.

"Detective Taylor," Sid smiles; always opting to use Taylor instead of just calling her Stella. Sid had told them on the day of their wedding that outside of his own children; their union made him the happiest man around.

"Your husband wanted these sent up," Sid tells her in a low tone.

"Where is my husband?" Stella arches a brow.

"Funny thing, we were in autopsy. I was cutting these off our vic and he jus...twell he zoned out, threw up and then rushed out the back door."

"Oh no," Stella states in shock as turns to leave. Sid touches her arm and turns her back.

"I heard about the fight during the sting operation with the FBI. Is he okay?"

"I think he just ate something bad."

Sid only give her a nod before Stella turns and rushes out of the room; leaving Sheldon and Lindsay to work on the new items that Sid had brought up. Stella hurries to Mac's office only to find it empty.

"Damn it Mac, where are you?" She offers in a panic as she reaches for her phone and dials his cell number. When she gets no answer she phones home and once again listens to empty rings. Rushing for her office she gathers her coat and then heads back into the hallway.

"Adam can you run a trace on Mac's cell and just tell me where he is?"

_"Sure hold on a sec. Is he okay?"_

"Just tell me," she snaps in exasperation as she hangs up. But just as she reaches the elevator she is called back by a voice she doesn't recognize.

"Detective Taylor?"

Stella turns back to see an older man walking up to her with Flack behind him.

"Is there something wrong?" She asks in haste; her heart racing that perhaps something has happened to Mac and this man knows something that she doesn't.

"Stella, this is Ron Knight," Flack introduces.

"Ma'am," Ron extends his hand to hers.

"Ron, right you were the one that helped Mac."

"Well I guess I shared a cell with your husband. He saved my life and I just wanted to say thank you. Is he um here?"

"You know he was called away to...to something important," she lies, looking at Flack who offers her a gaze that says he knows she's not telling the truth. "I'm sorry. But I also wanted to thank you for helping him."

"Well that Maurice Wicks is one evil bastard," Ron huffs. "I'm just glad that Wicks wasn't able to have him killed like the others. I had worried about that when he was forced into solitary a second time."

"Second...time?" Stella inquires; her mind now starting to race.

"Pretty sure that Wicks just wanted to break him. I mean from day one he had targeted Mark."

"Who?"

"Oh sorry your husband. Used to calling him Mark," Ron chuckles. "Well in any event I kinda took to the young man and just wanted to make sure he was okay after all he'd been through."

"All?" Stella asks weakly, unable to swallow the lump in her throat. "What um, what else did you see?"

"Oh I gave my statement to Detective Flack here. I just wanted to thank your husband for helping me to get my life back. Guess he took my advice."

"What advice?"

"Got out and got himself a good woman."

"Right," Stella replies with a tight lipped smile. "Why was he in solitary?" Stella presses, ignoring the pleading looks on Flack's face to just drop it and hear the truth from Mac.

"Just pissed off the wrong man. Roughed him up pretty good the first time. Course he did so in the library also."

"Library?" Stella asks with a sinking feeling; her stomach tight and sick. "What happened in the library?"

"Well that is where Wicks would take certain men, to you know...become friendly with them, but I'm sure your husband told you the details."

"He...missed a few things."

"Can't blame him would be hard for any man to go up against Wicks and his twisted cohorts."

"There was more than one?" Stella manages; Flack now listening with vested interest. "On a regular basis?"

"Two or three of them I think. Two for sure, but he always wore a mask. But I'm sure your husband kicked his ass; being an ex-marine and all."

"Yeah...he sure did," Stella mentions slowly just as her phone rings.

_"Stella, its Adam.__ Got Mac's phone and he's at home."_

"Great thanks. Ron I have to go but I know Mac wants to talk to you. Any chance you can come back tomorrow?"

Ron looks at Flack who gives an okay nod and Ron looks back with a friendly shrug.

"One more day won't hurt; besides he rushed out of the joint so fast I wasn't able to track him down."

"Yeah we had to pull him early," Flack pipes up. "But Stella if you have to go, I'll make sure that Ron is here tomorrow to see Mac."

"Okay and Ron," Stella leans in closer and gently squeezes his arm. "Thank you for helping Mac. I really do appreciate it. See you tomorrow."

Stella turns and races for the elevator, not able to get inside fast enough and get down to the basement. _'Solitary...twice...library...where they would take him to get friendly...roughed him up good...two or three_'...

"Mac what are you not telling me?" Stella grumbles as she flips the flashing red and blue lights and speeds for home; unable to get to the side of her husband fast enough. Suddenly his attitude makes sense; if he was attacked more than what they last saw before he was saved then he could be battling demons that she might be unable to help shield him from.

She reaches home and races inside; up the stairs and then stops to allow her heart rate to try to catch up, but with her anxiety sky rocketing at so what state she'll find him in, she knows praying for her nerves to calm is something that won't come true. She turns the key and heads inside, listening for any signs of where her husband might be. She finally hears angry muttering and heads for the spare bedroom, pushing the door open and then stopping in horror.

"Oh god Mac..." she whispers in horror as she spies Mac on the floor, slumped back against the bed, bottle in one hand and gun in the other. "What the hell is this?" She growls as she quickly kneels down at his side and tries to tug the bottle from his hand.

"Just in case he came here," he refers to the gun.

"I meant this."

"I needed..." he slightly slurs his words as he jerks his arm away from him, causing Stella's body to slightly stumble toward him.

She quickly counters and pushes herself back up to her knees, looking at him in concern. "This is not the answer Mac," she tries again to pull the bottle free of his grasp.

"Go...away Stella," Mac growls once more as he pushes her back and then succeeds in taking another quick swig; his stomach on fire and his head pounding; but his mind still hearing Wicks voice in his head.

Stella looks at his flushed face, sweat on his brow and some liquid stains on his dress shirt from where she assumes it was from when he threw up at work.

"Sid said you threw up."

"He should mind his own damn business!" Mac shouts angrily as he tries to move out of his grasp.

"Mac what happened? He said you threw up in his lab. That is his business!"

"Why the hell did he...he tell you?" He asks with a small hiccup as he tries to take another swig. Stella takes advantage of his odd position and quickly grabs at the bottle. Mac tries to hold on, but Stella's last successful yank gets it free, only to end up spraying herself with the golden whiskey.

"Stella..." Mac grumbles as he tries to reach for the fallen bottle.

Stella pulls back, causing Mac to fall forward into her grasp. Stella tosses the bottle aside and holds onto Mac.

"Stella...let go," Mac stammers as he tries to pull himself free.

"I'm never letting go Mac."

"Let go!" Mac tries again, his voice breaking as his throat seizes and he ends up coughing.

"Just relax Mac," Stella soothes as she holds on; thankful that her husband's resistance isn't that forceful. She feels his body finally resign to her embrace and he slumps down in her grasp.

"Please Mac, tell me what is going on?"

"I'm uh," he frowns, his slightly watery eyes focusing on nothing in particular. _'__Miss me Mac? I've missed you'_ Wicks voice laughs once more.

"Please Mac, what happened today?"

"Stella..."

"Ron Knight stopped by."

"What?" Mac asks in shock as he twists his head and looks at her in surprise. "What did he want?" Mac inquires as he tries to catch his breath; praying his heart rate will subside.

"To thank you for saving his life," Stella mentions as she eases herself into a better position and helps Mac arrange himself on her lap, her fingers stroking is damp brown locks.

"I didn't..." Mac starts only to have Stella gently touch his lips.

"I want you just to rest right now Mac. You smell like...damn did you throw up again?" She asks with a hint of angry frustration in her voice. "Sorry."

"You have the...right to be...pissed at me," Mac huffs.

"I am," Stella retorts with a slight smile. Mac looks up at her, his mind uncertain that she was joking but when he sees her expression he slumps his head back down on her lap and closes his eyes.

"Is Ron okay?" Mac manages in one breath.

"He wants to thank you in person and I said he could. He also mentioned a few other things that we can talk about later."

"What other things?"

"Just rest now Mac. You smell like whiskey and vomit and...and your body is trembling," she frowns as she reaches for a nearby blanket and crudely covers him.

"I can..." Mac tries to get up.

"Mac I'm fine here, please just rest," Stella insists as she pushes him back down. "You can tell me later."

Mac hears the torment in her voice and closes his eyes in torment. The whiskey was playing havoc with his empty stomach and his core was on fire. But as much as he tells himself that he's fine and Wicks is in jail, he can't get Wicks voice and the jeering officers out of his head and soon his fists tighten and he feels his stomach starting to churn once more.

"Mac.."

"Let go..."

"But..."

"Want to...throw up," he spews forth garbled words as his struggles to get up. But with Stella's help he's able to get up and make it to the bathroom in time just to throw up once more. Stella's hand tenderly rubs his back as he continues to heave; his lungs dry and on fire by the time he stands up and faces her with a remorseful expression.

"Just go and rest Mac," Stella instructs; thankful when he only gives her a nod and then heads out of the bathroom and disappears into their bedroom. Stella places her fists on the edge of the sink and looks at her tired expression in the mirror. "This has to end soon," she huffs as she pushes herself back from the edge and goes in search of her husband once more. She enters the bedroom and feels her heart break as she spies Mac on his side look up at her with a heavy frown.

"Want something for your stomach?"

"Shouldn't have had...the damn...whiskey," Mac whispers softly as Stella wiggles herself into his grasp; Mac still on his side. He feels his body immediately ease its shakes as Stella covers them with the heavy blanket and once again feels regret starting to tug at his heart. He knew she'd find out one way or another and yet despite his tormented condition she's with him, taking care of him and offering her love in unconditional ways.

"Please Mac just close your eyes," Stella instructs as her fingers continue to massage his tight temples. She brushes his cheek with her fingers and then leans her head back against the wall and closes her eyes, her lips emitting a heavy sigh.

"Stella?"

"Just hard to hear other details from strangers but to have my own husband act like a stranger toward me."

Mac slowly twists himself around so that he's laying on his back and looking up with a deep frown.

"Sheldon even said you snapped at officers today."

"It's just...Stella that place was...hell and..." his voice trails off as he feels his stomach tighten once more.

"Want to throw up?"

"I just want...to rest."

"Well I guess that's good."

"It's just that," Mac pauses, but when he sees that Stella has no intention of interrupting him he knows he must offer something to explain his erratic behavior of the day. "When I saw that body I thought that...damn I thought it was me."

Stella closes her eyes tight as she swallows hard. "Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Was Flack with Ron?"

"He was. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Mac?"

"Was Ron upset?"

"I didnt tell him anything Mac. I said you were at an important meeting."

"Not home...drinking," he counters sourly.

"Mac this isn't you. But you have been on edge ever since you came into work. I thought that maybe work would be the best thing for you but it wasn't."

"Can't stay home," he tells her lightly, his voice still dry.

"I don't want to argue Mac. But you tell me what will be best for you. What is going to help you...well get back to you the fastest?"

"I um...I don't know."

"Okay well close your eyes for now and just rest. And when you get up hopefully you'll be okay to eat something and then we'll just..."

"Talk?"

"You used to like when we just sat and talked Mac."

"I...there is nothing to..."

"Just rest Mac and we'll talk later."

"Stella," he starts only to have her once again touch his lips with her finger and he stops his speech.

"Please Mac you look and I'm sure feel like hell. Just rest and I will also and when we both wake up we'll just..."

"Talk?"

"I was thinking we'd have sex," Stella quips and Mac's lips slightly twitch upward. "Ah thought you'd like that."

Mac forces his mind to think on them making love before he left and immediately his body starts to ease its tense trembling and succumbs to the wonderful feeling of being held in Stella's arms. And although as suspected the next few hours were dotted with nightmares, fitful outbursts, coughing spells and a lone episode of vomiting, by the time supper rolls around Mac is finally asleep and Stella watching over him with a careful eye.

She feels his body tighten as he mumbles the name Maurice Wicks with angry disdain and now can't help but wonder if Mac had other personal run ins with Wicks before he was caught when she saw him. _Did Wicks trap him before? _She was told once he had gone into solitary. _But twice?__ Is that what Mac is still afraid of? _What isn't he telling me? Her mind replays her brief meeting with Ron Knight over and over again before she closes her eyes and prays for the frantic voices inside to stop.

"No...stop," she hears Mac once more and feels her own fists tighten as they rest on his Mac. She knows he can't be comfortable still on his stomach, all his weight pressing down on his bruised chest but doesn't have the heart to disturb him; not after the hellish day he's survived.

"Stop...touching me," he mumbles once more and her stomach tightens. _Are those the nightmares that really haunt Mac? Did Wicks manage a mild assault? Was Mac not able to fight back? _She looks at his bandaged wrists and had just assumed they were from that bad fight when he was cuffed and then they were tied above his head. _But maybe they are so cut up because he's had to endure something before? What if Mac was assaulted one time before and just won't admit to that one? A few days before? Possibly? Oh Mac why won't you just tell me?_

Stella shakes her head, telling herself that that's not possible and Mac was just shaken up by the fight; by not being able to defend himself against such a terrifying foe but that he was rescued before anything vile could actually befall him. She watches slowly open his eyes and then twist himself around to his side so that he's propped up on one elbow looking up at her.

"Just relax," Stella soothes as she gently pushes him onto his back. "Less strain on your shoulders."

"Did you rest at all?" Mac asks in concern, prompting Stella to just look at him in wonder. "Can't I ask?"

"I'll rest when you will."

"Did I rest at all?"

"A little bit. I think you should rest all day tomorrow though; and at home, not at work."

"Stella..."

"Mac I thought going back to work would be better for you but..."

"I thought that too but I can't just lock myself away and...tomorrow will be better, I promise."

"I hope you're right," Stella replies with a heavy sigh as her fingers continue to gently massage his temples.

"Just don't want anyone to think of me..."

"Mac, Sheldon said you snapped at officers today."

"I know I just...trust me Stella, tomorrow will be better," he states with a heavy frown.

"Are you hungry?"

"Actually I could eat a little something."

"That's what I like to hear," she tells him warmly. "Want to help?"

"I don't mind," Mac answers as he pushes himself upright and leans against her. He looks down as her fingers reach over into his lap and grasp his fingers and hold them tightly; finally giving her a sideways glance and feeling his face soften as he locks eyes with hers. Emerald starts to collide with sapphire and Mac feels his heart rate start to rise and his fingers grip Stella's tighter.

"Talk to me Mac. Is it Wicks?"

"Part of it is."

"What did he do? You said..."

"He didn't Stella. I give you my word. It's just um...well things he said and...and well you saw the rest."

"Did I?" Stella counters.

"Stella?" Mac arches his brows.

"What happened in solitary Mac?"

"It was a scare tactic Stella."

"What did he say to you Mac?"

"Things that um...they were scare tactics."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because they were no big deal," he lies, his voice laced with agitation.

"Oh so I can hear from a stranger but not my own husband?" Her voice snaps before she quickly calms down. "It just hurts to hear others know things about you that I should be hearing first. I don't want to put any guilt on you, but I should know before Ron, Flack, whoever," she finishes with a heavy sigh.

"Stella, tomorrow, I promise," Mac tries again.

"And tomorrow if you have a good day you'll tell me everything?"

"I..."

"Damn it Mac, Ron knows!" She growls and then turns away.

"Yes. I will tell you tomorrow," he utters in half truth.

"Okay but you know I won't...Mac I know you know I love you but I hope you know that means in everything right? I mean you know you have nothing to be worried about or um...well ashamed over?"

"I just need time Stella. Tomorrow will better," he tells her again. "It will be better."

Stella leans her head on his shoulder as two heavy sighs fill the now quiet room. They linger together a bit longer, fingers intertwined and hearts keeping the same rapid pace; Mac's mind trying to block out Maurice Wicks haunting words and Stella's mind wondering what Mac was really keeping from her.

_I have to get those tapes, _she tells herself.

_I have to hide those tapes, _Mac tells himself.

"Come on Mac, let's get some dinner and then get some rest and start tomorrow fresh, okay?"

Mac offers her a nod and then both of them slowly slide off the bed and wander toward the kitchen. Mac makes a small detour to the bathroom, telling her he'll be out in a few minutes. He turns on the cold water and then starts to splash his face, but he stands up too soon and with nothing but angry bile in his stomach from him already having thrown up and then the whiskey he feels himself falling forward. Trying to avoid hitting his head on the edge of the sink he puts out his hands to catch himself and ends up missing his head but crashing to his knees.

"Mac?" Stella calls out quickly as she knocks on the door.

"Just fell," he huffs as he slowly pushes himself onto the closed toilet lid and rests his head in his hands just as Stella pushes the door open.

"Dizzy," he tells her. "Got up too fast."

Stella offers him a weak smile but knows she can't make him feel like a weakling or invalid as that is probably how he felt being locked in solitary with only Maurice Wicks tormented words dancing around inside his super heated brain. She leaves the door open as she heads back into the kitchen, her rate taking it's time to come back down to normal once more.

Mac looks at his haggard reflection in the mirror and frowns. Stella didn't offer him help and now wonders if she's feeling the burden of his feeling so weak and vulnerable. _She'd never tell me, _he laments as he stands up and dries his face before heading for the kitchen to help with dinner in whatever way he can.

"Smells good," Mac notes as he comes and stands beside his wife.

"Something easy for your stomach Mac. Remember the first meal I made us after our honeymoon?" Stella asks, wanting to change the subject from his forced incarceration to something upbuilding and heartwarming; wanting to keep his mind focused on happy thoughts of their wedding instead of the horrific nightmares his brain was offering him.

By the time they sat down to eat, Mac's mind had finally eased in it's offering of only terrifying images of his demise at Wicks hands and instead showed him their wedding and the wonderful days that followed. His mind and heart latched onto her sayings, holding onto them like a drowning man holding onto his last vestige of salvation before he was pulled under.

They sat down and once again, this time with soft music playing in the background, Stella keeps the conversation loving and humorous. She knows that if she continues to badger Mac about the things he's not telling her, it will drive a further wedge between them. She had already settled in her mind to get the tapes and review and finally learn what other things Mac was keeping from her. She had already texted Flack and he had put them into a locked drawer in her office.

Now she just wanted Mac to keep his mind focused on happy things, noticing an instant improvement in his attitude and how his posture has softened.

"How does it taste?"

"Wonderful as always," Mac remarks in truth as they continue with their meal; making mindless banter about happier times of the past. Finally after supper Mac offers to help with the dishes, telling Stella his strength had returned enough for him to feel somewhat useful in the kitchen once again.

"You always were useful Mac," Stella kisses his cheek as they finish the dishes together. "Now just go and rest okay? For me?"

"I was planning on it," Mac replies in truth. "Thank you."

"I like to cook for us Mac."

"No I mean for not allowing me to dwell on well..."

"When you're ready you'll tell me," she tells him with a strained smile; more than aware of the fact she knows that he knows she's not telling him the truth. She wants more but also knows to wait until he can offer it without having a mild heart attack or panic attack. _I'll see those tapes and then know if I need to press more or just let him be until this passes over, _she tells hersef her plan for tomorrow.

Stella watches Mac wander into the bedroom and then waits a few minutes before finally joining him. She notices the bruising on his chest and frowns as she gently closes the bedroom door, forcing him to look up with some nervousness as he tries to cover his bruised and bandaged chest.

"You don't have to be shy Mac," Stella whispers as she nears him, gently pushing his hands down before he can cover his smooth chest.

"I um...I'm not dressed."

"I know," she smiles as she leans in closer. "I've missed you Mac."

"Stella I..." Mac starts only to have her leans in closer and tenderly brush his lips with hers.

"Shhh Mac, please just try to relax."

"I um..." he tries again as his nervousness starts to build.

"Just a kiss Mac."

"I..."

"I missed you Mac," Stella states again.

"Stella," Mac feels his heart rate starting to rise as he feels his fingers starting to gently grope his chest, mindful of his bandages. And although her touches don't hurt, his heart starts to race with thoughts of shame and doubt; his anxiety doubling as her fingers move lower. And while he feels his member starting to harden at her touch, he feels the rest of his body pulling back.

"Stella I can't..."

"Mac, it's just a," she tries as she pushes him back up against the wall, not enough to hurt him in any way but enough for his brain to flash images of Wicks pushing him against the wall; Stella's hands nearing his groin replaced with Wicks and suddenly panic seizes him.

"Don't touch me."

"I won't hurt you Mac."

"No I can't..."

"But..."

"I said I CAN'T," he pulls back with an angry bark.

"I'm sorry but I..."

"I can't do this Stella," Mac stammers as he turns away, his face flushed and his mind trying to block out Wicks touches from the library.

"Can we just..."

"Can't do this," Mac manages once more as he pulls the bedroom door open.

Stella runs two frustrated hands through her unruly curls, thinking that he just went into the living room to calm down. But when she hears the front door open and then slam shut her heart races with a new kind of anxiety.

"Mac?" She calls out as she rushes into their now quiet apartment. "Where the hell did he go?" She asks in a panic as she races for the front door.

* * *

**A/N**: where did Mac go? Have we seen/heard the last of Wicks? What will Stella see on the tapes? And what else will the team have to bear before Mac finally snaps and confesses all? Hope you are still liking it and thanks so much!


	11. A Turning Point?

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 11 - A Turning Point?**

**A/N: **Okay so I'm sure you are all as devastated as I am about Melina's departure from NY for next season. The worst part is they have confirmed we have already seen her last eppy. TRULY SUCKS AND WE ALL HATE CBS! Lol okay rant over. I am going to finish this story in a few more chappies b/c the muse is just barely hanging on and my SMACKED heart is crushed. So if I have let some of you down well blame CBS for a dead muse. I will try to finish the other stories but ABC's is on hold indefinitely at this point. Sorry guys but unless Melina comes back and we our SMACKED back, its a tough struggle right now and season 7 is dead to me (no more eppy one shots!). ~AiP

* * *

Mac gets into the quiet hallway and stops; his mind yelling at him to leave but his heart winning the battle by telling him he cannot go further; that he belongs with his wife, at least owing her an explanation. He nears the elevator and stops; unable to push the button to call the elevator to come and take him away. Then he hears as Stella calls his name.

He turns to her with an anguished expression full of remorse and pain and holds up his hands in mere defeat. He watches her walk up to him, gently push her fingers into his and allows her hands to catch his at his sides. Then without another word she wraps her arms gently around his chest and places her head on his shoulder.

"Stella I'm sorry."

"Why?" She asks without looking up; her mind delighting in the soft strokes down her back that his fingers were offering, the first real display of tender affection since his return.

"I just didn't want to disappoint you."

"Are you disappointed in me on the nights I am unable or not really in the mood for sex and you are?"

"No."

"Then why expect less of me, if you aren't in the mood?"

"I was...well my body was...it's just that..." his voice rattles off as she looks up with a soft smile.

"He can't hurt you anymore Mac. He's in jail now and won't get out for a long time."

"I know I just..."

"Tell me Mac, what else did he do to you? Or were you really just not in the mood?"

"I wanted to be," Mac replies with a weary tone. "Gosh Stella I missed you so much and...and it just seems I can't get him out of my head and it's not fair to either of us. Maybe we just need some time apart."

"You do that and he wins," Stella reminds him as she locks onto his warm sapphire gaze and holds it. "He wants you running away from love or whatever else he told you. He's ugly and twisted and full of hatred and lies Mac. You are a kind and caring and wonderful man who I love more than life itself. But you are my life Mac. So if you want to run away then I am going to also. Do you want that?"

"I don't run away."

"I know you don't. You never have. You are not a quitter Mac. Even when your life was at its darkest and you were either half dead in a foreign country or watching the world to go hell before your very eyes you never ran."

"I just don't want to cause you any further burden."

"And you leaving me and going god knows where is going to make it easier for me? Think I'd worry less? Would you?"

Mac ponders her words before he finally shakes his head no; knowing inside that his absence would make things even worse between them. And despite the misery he's still feeling inside he knows that Stella is right, he's never run away but with her love and help always come out stronger than before. Mac finally offers her a nod before they turn and head back into their apartment.

"If I never have to talk work around you to keep you happy Mac then I will do that," Stella mentions as they slowly wander toward the bedroom.

"It shouldn't have to be that way Stella. I didn't mean to freak. I just...I guess I just needed some air and...oh damn its all excuses. I can't get his damn voice OUT OF MY HEAD!" Mac finishes in an angry shout as he steps back from Stella.

"Why? What did he say?"

"He said things no man...no normal man should...should ever have to hear," Mac admits with a heavy sigh as he looks away. "I just want to forget it all and...and I just wish it would all go away."

"But you know it's not that easy right Mac?" Stella asks as he slowly eases herself down on the end of the bed and is happy when Mac follows suit.

"I keep telling myself that it's over and it doesn't matter anymore."

"But it does Mac, to me and to those that care about you. This angry, withdrawn man who wants to drink and isn't interested in sharing an intimate moment with his wife isn't you."

"I want to believe that but...but something inside and I guess...Wicks is in jail and he'll be there for a long time. It's over Stella. In a few days everything will be okay."

"But do you really believe that Mac?"

"Not right now," Mac feels his shoulders starting to sag.

"It'll come. You know talking about it helps. I don't mind the happy banter like we had at dinner about things in the past but in order for you to really heal from all this you also need to talk about what happened in the days leading up to your um..."

"Attack?"

"Attack," she whispers as her head drops and her eyes rest on their clasped fists.

"Can't talk about that."

"How about to a doctor?"

"I don't think Ben..."

"How about a physiatrist?"

"Stella, I am not going to a head shrink," Mac insists.

"It would be private and totally confidential."

"And it would be one more person that I would have to..."

"Talk to? Mac you aren't even telling me everything," Stella pleads. "For me?"

"Stella, I am not going to a physiatrist."

"Okay then lets get some rest," Stella resigns. And she knows that while he might not take it very seriously tonight, he will consider her suggestion; Mac highly valuing his privacy and knowing that a professional who isn't related in any way might be the very person to unlock the terrors inside his head. However, she also knows that it will take something major; something more than a mere sexual advance on her part, something that will shake him to the very fabric of his being and force him to see that very future existence is at stake.

Mac climbs into bed beside his wife and feels his body offer a heavy sigh and his frame naturally sag into place beside hers. His first inkling was to laugh at her suggestion of talking to a professional physiatrist but he found himself as she turned off the light, actually wondering if he'd be better off talking about his ordeal to a strange man; a man who wouldn't judge or look at him in a strange way; a man who would simply label him a case file instead of labeling him Detective Taylor, ruined psyche.

"Goodnight Mac," Stella whispers as she kisses his cheek and then wraps her arms around his tense frame.

"Goodnight Stella," Mac whispers softly as he tells himself to focus on the happy thought of their wedding to keep Maurice Wicks at bay. Sadly even in the dark and with Stella's soft snoring beside him, his mind replays over and over again the call from Maurice Wicks and then the frustrating discussion with the guard who was supposed to be limiting Wicks incarceration privileges. For most of the night Mac lays on his back, the right side of his body warmed by Stella's frame and the left side cold. Telling himself that if he doesn't fall asleep, Wicks can't haunt his dreams and he'll at least allow his body to rest. Finally, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, his brain weary from battling Wicks in a duo to the death, he allows his subconscious to succumb to the dark realm of sleep; thankful that in a few hours he will awaken with some refreshment.

Stella awakens before Mac and slowly opens her eyes to look at her sleeping husband. His face, although flushed, is not as angry and tense as the night before, his brow only slightly damp. She studies the cut above his eye and the bruise on his cheek, and even though the swelling has subsided around each; both are dark and angry looking and a visible reminder to her that he sustained one hell of a fight. But as his face tenses and his perfect lips part and offer a whispered curse, she knows that what is hurting the most on her beloved husband is whatever mental battles his mind and heart are waging.

She watches him slowly open his eyes and offer her a small lazy smile.

"Morning," he offers in a soft tone.

"Morning," she replies as she gently touches his warm forehead. "Not as bad as the night before."

"I guess Ron will be there today."

"And you spent all night worrying about what you would tell him?" Stella inquires.

"Sort of," Mac replies with a slight yawn as he rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. "I feel I deceived him in a way."

"Mac that man was more than grateful for the help you extended. If the guards hadn't found in time, he'd be dead."

"Just like Bart," Mac ponders as his brow deeply furrows. "Do we know when Wicks hearing is?"

"No," Stella tells him in truth. "I know you want to face him but..."

"You can't tell me not to Stella."

"Was going to say but when I find out we'll both face him together."

Mac looks and her and offers a look of remorse.

"Crucify yourself later about jumping to rash conclusions," she smiles. "Let's get some breakfast and get this day started."

"I um...I'll shower first if you..." he starts only to have her lean in closer and plant a warm kiss on his waiting lips. As Stella's body presses a bit further into his, Mac feels his desire for her starting to harden and a few seconds later a soft moan of delight escapes his lips. Her fingers start to tease the soft skin around his belly button, wanting to move lower.

"Missed you Mac," she whispers as her fingers continue to move lower; once again wanting to see if it's her touch that has turned him off wanting to get a sexual arousal or something else is keeping him from enjoying the things from the past.

_'You have a lot to offer...nice and hard...' _

Mac feels Stella's fingers finally coming to rest on his groin; his member wanting to harden as her touch lingers.

_'Feels good...' _Wicks voice states again; pushing aside any pure and descent thoughts and replacing them with ugly actions and twisted reasoning's.

Stella slightly loses her grasp and her elbow comes down on Mac's tender ribs, forcing his lips to utter a small grunt of pain.

"Stella..."

"Sorry. I'll start the coffee Mac."

"Right," he frowns as his hand gently snakes behind her head and keeps her face inches from his. "I do love you Stella."

"I've never stopped believing that Mac," she assures him as she allows him to taste her lips once more and then regrettably pushes herself out of bed and heads for the kitchen, her heart racing with muted happiness. It was a start; whether he would realize it or not, even the smallest effort of romantic initiation on his part told her that he was on the slow path to recovery; it might take longer than she might like, but there was hope at the end of that road.

Mac slowly pushes himself out of bed, cursing first of all his bandaged ribs that immediately dispelled any romantic urges that were growing but also the fact that he feels inadequate in making any kind of intimate gesture. _She didn't seem disappointed, _his mind ponders as he makes the bed and then heads into the kitchen to help Stella. He flips on the morning news, allowing the mindless background chatter to help distract him from dwelling too much on facing Ron Knight and if Maurice Wicks would have the nerve to call him again.

But as he settled into their light breakfast, Stella talking about the weather, his mind now wonders what he would tell Jimmy. _Surely he'll want to knowhe has the right to know. _It was at Jimmy's prodding that he even gave a second thought to his tormented assignment in the first place. But in truth, Jimmy only needed to know that the man accused of raping and murdering his brother had been arrested; the undercover op was successful but that was it. He didn't need any further details.

"Mac? What is it?"

"Would like to go out for dinner tonight."

"I don't mind..."

"Just the two of us...as we did before."

Stella looks at his facial expression and knows it has nothing to do with her cooking or even a money issue; he needed to prove to himself that he could still function as he did before. And if this was another small step, regardless of the outcome after the dinner, she would embrace it with him one hundred percent.

"Would really like that," she answers in truth and his face warms. Thankfully for Mac the rest of the conversation on the way to the lab was spent talking about where they would go for dinner, finally deciding on a small Greek restaurant they both loved and liked to frequent.

As soon as Mac steps off the elevator, however, he feels his anxiety rising; his brain wondering who would be talking about him and in what capacity. Sheldon approaches and he feels his stomach tighten; Flack following.

"Mac we may have found our killer," Sheldon states as he hands Mac a results readout.

"Mac, can Stella handle that, you have a special visitor."

"Sure, Sheldon let's compare those results," Stella mentions as she gives Mac a small pat on the back and then heads down the hall with Sheldon.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Mac replies with a tight lipped smile. "Who's here?"

"Ron Knight. He at first turned down Witsec but says it'll keep his family safe until the trial and then he'll decide if he wants the full meal deal or not."

"Military types aren't used to hiding Don."

"Yeah I know that Mac," Flack replies with a soft smirk.

"Anything from Wicks?"

"That guard was replaced and we dont know how he allowed Wicks to call you. What did he say anyways?"

"Just a bunch of lies Don, it was no big deal."

"Mac..."

"Don I said I am fine," Mac repeats, his voice rising and a hint of anger coming to the fore.

"Right sure...okay so you want to talk to Ron?"

"I do," Mac answers with a small hint of nervousness in his voice. When he had first met Ron Knight he really didn't know how big an impact that Ron would have made on his life; forever changing certain views and idealistic opinions. He nears his office and feels his apprehension starting to grow. _Get a grip, _Mac commands himself as he enters his office and Ron stands to greet him.

"Detective Taylor?" Ron greets with some hesitation.

"Morning Ron. Sorry for the um...deception," Mac replies as he shakes his head and then gestures for him to sit back down.

"See they worked ya over pretty good young man," Ron huffs as he eases himself back down into the leather chair, his eyes studying the bluish marks on Mac's face.

"It was an unfair fight," Mac notes with disdain.

"At least they gotcha out before ya ended up like the other fella."

"Thanks in part to you," Mac states softly with a heavy frown.

"Did they um...well did you have to experience what them other fella's did?" Ron asks directly. Mac looks at him but knows that Ron would lack the certain etiquette that comes from being in jail so long; questions like that from one man to another not usually asked in such a public setting. But Mac also knows that Ron knows what happened to the others and had warned him right from day one what kind of man Maurice Wicks really was.

"There wasn't time," Mac nods in confirmation.

"Good to hear it. Met your wife yesterday. Good lookin' woman."

"She is," Mac replies, his lips unable to stop from curling into a small smile.

"Well hold onto her. She'll get you through all this."

"What makes you think I need help?" Mac asks firmly.

"Meant no offense," Ron puts his hand up. "Just when I met you...well you were different than now and...yeah she'll help you. A good woman always does."

"Have you seen your wife?"

"She was with me and them other Detective's last night when we signed all those papers. Really can't thank you enough for the help in getting my life back."

"Ron, it's me who owes you the thanks. You saved me in the library and...you know when I got back to my cell after the second time in the library and you were gone I um...well I thought for sure you were dead."

"Pretty close," Ron huffs as he leans back in his chair. "That damn box they put me into had no air."

"Bart O'Neil is dead."

"Sorry to hear it. So what happens now?"

"Now you'll sign your final release. You'll spend your time in protective custody until the hearing and then...well Detective Flack says you're not sure about the witness protection program?"

"Got my family to think about. Just missed so much of my son's and grandsons lives I don't want to miss any more."

"But you have some pretty powerful enemies now."

"More so than North Korea?" Ron counters with a smirk. "You know when I mentioned the library to your wife yesterday and your second stay in solitary she seemed...well she seemed surprised. You haven't told her everything have you?"

"Can't," Mac answers softly as he looks away with a frown.

"Yeah funny how men get at times; 'specially when our pride is on the line."

"Meaning?"

"You probably figure she'll think less of you or something?"

"Something," Mac offers another one word answer.

"Do you think I think less of you when I found you in the library?"

"You didn't see what they um...what they did."

"What did they do?"

"I don't want to talk about it, sorry."

"Don't be sorry to me, you don't live with me. If you did, you'd hear about it," Ron quips and Mac's face finally softens. "Well I guess I should go. Just came by to see how you were and do hope you'll continue to keep in touch. Took to ya right away."

"Ron, you've helped me more than you know so thank you," Mac replies as he stands up and offers his hand. "Please take care."

Ron nods as he turns and heads back into the hallway where Flack is waiting. He watches Flack give him a half wave and then disappear around the corner with Ron Knight at his side. Mac settles back into his chair and feels himself offer a heavy sigh into the stillness around him. _You need to tell her everything, _his brain replay in part what Ron Knight advised him. But maybe if today went according to plan and he was able to keep his mind occupied on anything other than Maurice Wicks he would be able to get himself back to where he was and all this would be over and he would be spared any further tormented discussions with Stella.

That plan would be moot. For when the phone rings Mac's world crashes to a halt once more.

"Taylor."

_"Sleep well Mac? You know I would sleep much better if you were here with me. Course I doubt we'd be doing much sleeping," Wicks laughs. _

"How the hell..."

_"Missed playing with you Mac.__ Miss restraining you and you trying to resist. Did you miss that also? How about the shower? Did you know I was watching? Did you like it as much as me? Would have preferred more of a show on your part but trust me you didn't disappoint."_

"You son of a bitch how the hell did you get another phone call?" Mac demands in anger.

_"You aren't the only one with friends in low places. Been thinking about you Mac and all the fun we are going to have when we are together again. Well maybe more fun for me; you might not be able to move that much."_

"There won't be a next time and I am going to personally..."

_"Listen up Mac. You can't fight fate. You will be with me and I am going to finish what I started. You will be helpless and alone AND MINE!"_

"You are going to rot in jail for the rest of your life you sick bastard. It bothers you because I won and you didn't. I was the one you couldn't break and I know that pisses you off."

_"Got some nice new toys for ya Mac.__ Course you took away my other handcuffs but I got some new ones that I think will look real good on you. And..."_

"You have nothing to..."

_"Got a real problem interrupting me Mac. I will keep you gagged most of the time but trust me you wont mind. I know you like those sounds just as much as me."_

"You are going..."

_"Your wife know about us Mac? I mean did you tell her about all the fun we had together?"_

"Listen to me you sick bastard."

_"Again with the interrupting...how about your team?__ Shall I tell them for you? Or do you want it to be just us?"_

"You are one twisted, deluded..."

_"Twisted yes, deluded no.__ I know you wanted it just as much as me. I felt you Mac. I felt you get hard under my touch. I know you liked it then and I know you'll like..."_

Mac had enough as he slams down the phone, offering an angry curse but catching himself from tossing the phone toward the window just as Danny appears.

"Whoa sorry Big Mac, but you um got a sec?"

"No!" Mac growls as he pushes himself up out of his desk, past Danny and races for the stairwell; his eyes about to water and his heart racing. He allows the door to slam shut behind him as he heads downstairs, needing to hit something and not wanting to put on a display for his team or his wife.

He reaches the quiet gym; heads for the bench with two punching gloves, quickly stripping off his suit jacket and dress shirt, tossing them aside just as he reaches the leather punching bag.

_'Put on a show in the showers...felt you Mac...you liked itl...iked it...'_

"SHUT UP!" Mac yells as he punches the bag with such force that he quickly pulls his bruised shoulder, the one that had been dislocated; in pain.

_'New toys for you Mac...keep you gagged...I WILL HAVE YOU!'_

"GET OUT...OF MY...HEAD!" Mac shouts once more as he punches the bag with his other arm, not caring about the small throbbing feeling starting to develop in his side.

_'Be better if you were here with me...one that got away...I WILL HAVE YOU'!_

"NEVER," Mac pants as he offers another forceful blow, stepping back a few steps, trying to catch his breath and keep his lungs from heaving. He blinks away some angry tears from his eyes but when he looks back at the bag he sees Wicks face smiling at him.

_'Can't fight fate Mac,' the voice smiles at him. 'You will be mine...I will own you.'_

"NEVER!" Mac shouts again as he slams his fist into the heavy bag. "Never you sick...bastard," he curses as he throws his weight into it once more.

XXXXXXXX

"Stella you wanna help me with this Mac is um...busy," Danny asks with a heavy frown as he walks up to the evidence table Stella is still lingering at.

"Sure. What is Mac doing?"

"Don't know. He slammed down the phone and then snapped at me. Musta been Sinclair," Danny shrugs as Stella feels her stomach starting to tighten. _Another bad phone call. _But she remembers how Mac acted yesterday and hopes that she can ward off another disappearing act on his part.

"I'llbe right back," Stella tells Danny as she rushes out of the evidence lab, leaving their team once again exchanging wondering glances about the errant behavior of their fearless leader since his return from his undercover assignment.

Stella reaches Mac's office and panic seizes her when she sees he's not there. But his phone was still on the desk along with his gun holster so she knows he can't have gone very far. _But where? _Somewhere there are no people..._The gym? _Although unlikely she figures it's worth a shot and then heads for the elevator, her heart rate starting to race as the elevator finally reaches the bottom. She exits into the lonely hallway and hears angry cursing and grunts and feels her heart shatter as she gets closer and recognizes the voice of her beloved husband.

"Oh Mac," she whispers as she nears the door that is still open a crack.

"SICK BASTARD!" She hears Mac curse followed by a grunt. "Never...own me...NEVER!" He yells again as another resounding punch echoes into the hallway she's in. She leans against the wall and closes her eyes, her stomach tight as she once again hears Mac curse Wicks name followed by another forceful promise that he would never be able to finish what he's started.

_Was that Wicks on the phone? And if so did he also call yesterday? _Stella shakes her head and tells herself that Wicks wouldnt have phone privileges, much less be able to call the one man he's accused of assaulting. _But what if was him? Would account for Mac's__ rash behavior right now. S_he knows that Mac spoke with Ron but doubts that Ron would have this effect. As far as she knew Ron Knight was still going to help Mac by testifying.

_What did he tell you Mac? _She wonders as she hears her husband and partner offer another curse as his fists hits the bag; his lips following that with a grunt of pain. She quietly pokes her head around the door, unable to take any more of his tormented words and hoping and praying he'll finally confess what's going on.

"Stella," Mac pants as he steps back and looks at her in shock. "What um...are you doing here?" He asks as he quickly tries to take the gloves off.

"Don't stop Mac," she tells him in haste and he halts his actions. "Obviously you needed this and I'm glad you are here instead of at home and...well doing something you'll regret like yesterday."

"Just can't get...his voice...out of my head," Mac manages as he looks at her with a flushed and sweat stained face.

"Anything you want to tell me?"

"I just needed...to blow offsteam."

"Okay but anything you want to tell me?"

"No," Mac replies, his stomach tight from the internal battle to tell her or not to tell her. I just can't, Mac tries to reason inside his heated brain. She can't know that he called again; she'll worry and then it'll be even tenser between us. I just won'this voice trails off as her words interrupt his thoughts.

"Anything Ron say to upset you?" She tries.

"No, it was nice to...see him again," Mac lightly huffs as he stands fixed in place.

"Mac, I can't help you if you won't tell me."

"I CAN'T!" Mac shouts and then turns away in frustration. "There is nothing to tell."

"Danny said you snapped at him after a phone call."

"Wrong number."

"Yeah you said that yesterday," Stella counters, forcing Mac to look at her in remorse.

"It was nothing."

"Why won't you tell me?" She pleads.

"Stella...I just need to clear my head. I am fine."

"Right well...sorry to have bothered you," she huffs as she turns to leave.

"Stella, I'm sorry."

"For what Mac? For closing out the one person who loves you unconditionally?" She lightly snaps. "Who was on the phone?"

"It was no big deal!"

"I won't call you a liar Mac, but when you want to trust me again you know where I'll be," she states as she turns on her heel and leaves the room before he has a chance to answer.

"Damn it!" Mac curses as he tries to pull off the gloves, can't and so let out an angry shout into the quiet room before he heads back to the side bench and slumps down onto it. "She won't understand," he tries to reason. "I am doing this for us can't she see that?"

Mac raises his eyes toward the door and frowns. "Stella, I'm sorry."

She heads for the elevator, calling Flack on the way.

_"Stella...I can't."_

"Don't lecture me Don, if I have to I will pull rank and go to Sinclair."

_"But Mac..."_

"Needs me to do this. I need to see those tapes Don."

_"Just make sure that Mac doesn't know I gave them to you."_

"I think Maurice Wicks just called him again. He called him yesterday right?"

_"Didn't he tell you?" Flack inquires._

"Not directly and that is part of the problem. I think that Mac thinks he's protecting me and our marriage by keeping this all inside. How the hell is Wicks even allowed to call Mac?" Stella asks, the hint of anger in her voice also directed at the fact that Mac didn't tell her about the two phone calls.

_"I don't know," Flack sighs. "We got the guard changed from yesterday but...well he's a man with many friends, most like him."_

"Great. And Ron Knight?"

_"He's safe. I'll take care of Wicks phone usage."_

After Stella arranges for the tapes she heads for Flack's desk. She had asked him for them the day before but thought she wouldnt need them after Mac mentioned dinner out. And not wanting that to just become an idle dream, she knows she needs to know exactly what Mac faced in order to help him with whatever Wicks has as mental leverage over him.

"You'll never win Wicks," she vows as she reaches for the secret compartment where Flack had stored the footage. "If I have to, I will kill you myself," she vows as she extracts the small CD-ROM and then heads for her office; wanting to at least start to watch before Mac makes himself known once more. And while she wishes he was keeping his mind occupied by working on a case, she knows the best thing for him right now, is to work out all his energy doing something that won't take his life.

She reaches her office and shoves the CD into the drive, her mind and heart racing with nervous anticipation as to what she'll see. She opts to start at the beginning, telling herself that she needs to have the complete picture of what her husband endured in order to know what he has fighting inside.

The part with Mac having to strip for his processing and then watching him look around nervously sends her heart into small spasms; especially when he looks up and sees the two men watching him with smiles.

"I hate him already," she mutters under her breath. She then meets Ron Knight; her view, Mac's eyes and seeing everything he sees. Her heart aches when she hears him whisper her name; Ron not around but then feels her stomach tighten when Wicks first comes with the handcuffs and then forces Mac to wear them.

"Oh my god," she utters in horror as she first hears Wicks buttering Mac up; trying to befriend him with twisted lies. However, she also knows that Wicks isn't telling Mac things he can't get past. _What is it...what did he say that has Mac still so afraid? _She watches Mac interacting with Ron and then Bart and then George; feeling her stomach tighten as she is forced to listen to the demeaning and degrading remarks that George and Wicks were offering him. The shower scene made her want to throw up as she heard Mac muttering that they were watching and that he wanted to go home.

"Oh Mac...I'm so sorry," she laments in misery as she feels her eyes wanting to water. But it's not until Mac is first trapped in the library, a small fight that ends with his wrists cuffed behind his back and in the grasp of the two large men that her stomach wants to lose its contents. She watches Wicks lean in closer, George's hands also on Mac and then has to turn away when Wicks finally touches Mac in his groin; Mac's soft whimpers muffled by George's hand over his mouth.

_'Got a lot to offer us Mark.__ We know you like it rough...enough foreplay Mark...time for some fun...you are already hard...nice and hard for me. Will make this easier on both of us.'_

"Sick bastard," she whispers through clenched teeth. She dares to turn back and then watches as Mac's head snaps up and Ron's voice is heard. She feels herself breathing a sigh of relief; almost the same time as her husband but then hears them gag Mac and touch him again, his mouth offering muffled called for helps; his twisted captor's whispering things into his ear that the glasses picked up and unfortunately so did her brain.

She feels her fists tighten as he threatened not to tell anyone and then finally released and punched once more before he calls to Ron for help. She hits pause and then leans back in her chair, her throat finding it hard to swallow the small lump that has formed; her fingers quickly brushing away tears. She shakes her head; her brain now offering the ugly words that Wicks had taunted Mac's helpless state with. And that was it, it wasn't that he was caught and subdued it was that he was unable to fight back or stop the touching and the threats that were offered.

"Why didn't he tell me any of this?" She asks in misery as a tear finally escapes and runs down her cheek as she turns back and see's Ron Knight's concerned expression looking into the reflection of the scared face of her husband. _Did he honestly think I would think less or love him less? _And after watching only a few tormented minutes, she turns off the CD, unable to go further if it meant witnessing even more vile things that were implanted into Mac's brain courtesy of Maurice Wicks.

"Sick bastard...you won't win...you'll never break Mac."

She finishes her last word; her husbands name rolling off her lips as she looks up and spies his handsome face watching her with a weary expression.

"Stella I'm sorry," he offers softly. He looks at her soft watery expression and tells himself that it was his actions and angry words that drove her to this state; never knowing that it was because of what he endured and she just saw that has put her into such a morbid stupor.

"I didn't mean..."

"It's not you Mac...it's him. It's the monster that did this to us," Stella manages weakly. "Do you trust me Mac?"

"I do trust you Stella; with my life."

"Then tell me all that happened Mac. Make me understand what you are seeing, feeling and thinking that I can't," she begs. "Why are you so angry? What did he say to you? What did he do to you?" She asks softly.

"He did call," Mac finally gives in as he leans against the glass door frame, gently closing her door so the rest of the lab won't hear their discussion.

"What did he say?"

"Things that...as I said before...things no man should ever hear from another man," Mac looks down and then back up with a frown. "When he called it um..."

"Brought them all back."

"And you can't tell me how you are feeling?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you. You're not a man Stella."

"I can't understand the feeling of helplessness by being trapped by someone? You seriously want to ask me that?"

Mac looks at her and feels his shoulders sag. If anyone at all could understand his helpless feeling it would be her; she endured Frankie's torture and lived to tell. But much like him she too kept it inside; until she was rescued and even then, opened only to him.

"And after that happened I respected you enough not to pry. Stella you didn't offer many details about what you were um..."

"Right...I guess I didn't open up very much and here I am getting after you for doing the same thing," she looks away in misery. Silence finally starts to build as she turns back to Mac with a weak frown. "I don't know what to do."

"Neither do I," Mac admits. "Stella, I want him out of my head and each morning I wake up and tell myself today is going to be better but then I get a call or someone says something or a case reminds me and..."

"And you're right back to square one. Remember after Frankie I told you I changed."

"And I just lectured you about not letting the job affect your emotions," Mac remembers bitterly. "I guess it's time to take a dose of my own medicine."

"That's just it, we were both wrong then but we can change that now," Stella urges him as she leans forward and rests her fingers on his. "You are not alone and unlike after Frankie, we are married and our bond is stronger than ever. Together we can beat Maurice Wicks at his own game."

"Wish it was that easy; each time I close my eyes I see his face, hear his words and feel..."

"Feel what Mac?"

"Feel myself wanting to fight back but unable."

Stella looks at his posture and knows that he's struggling to tell her the things inside; some of them she's already seen. _Wicks touched himhe felt his_her brain swallows, unable to actually state the words she had seen. _Touched his groin...more than once..._that was for her pleasure only and she knows that he now feels violated by the ugly man who took away that innocence.

"You know if you tell me everything I won't think less of you Mac, you know that right?"

"Just can't right now Stella," Mac swallows hard. _I can't tell her he touched me...what would she say? She'd pity me and right now I don't need pity or sympathy. _She hasn't seen the tapes, he falsely assumes, so then I'll just work past this, hang up as soon as he calls and I'll get past this.

"Is that why you um...well when I want to initiate anything sexual that you...pull away?"

"Part of it," Mac looks away as he answers. "And that is why I can't tell you. How can I make you understand that it's not you and it's him?"

"By telling me like you did just now," she offers and he looks back in surprise. "Just glad it's not me."

"Never Stella...it's me if anything."

"You?"

"That I feel...well inadequate or..."

"Please tell me you don't believe that."

"Stella I..."

"It's not true Mac in any way. I hope that yo..." Stella starts once more only to have Lindsay come up to the door and lightly knock.

"We can finish this later."

"Mac," Stella tries once more.

"Please Stella, later?" Mac asks weakly. Stella sees the pain and remorse in his warm sapphire eyes and knows she won't have the strength today to mend her crushed heart. _Mac feels inadequate? _How can I make him feel that isn't true? But as she sees the impatient person outside waiting to discuss a work matter she knows she has to drop this until another time. _I will make you believe the truth Mac, that you are an amazing man with nothing to be afraid of ever!_

"Okay," she begrudgingly agrees as she nods to Lindsay to enter.

"Sorry guys but just got two major calls. Danny is working on our call from this morning but Sheldon and I need to take this call."

"Go and we'll help Danny," Mac instructs as he pushes his fatigue ravaged frame out of the chair before Stella and offers Lindsay a nod. Lindsay takes her leave and Mac pauses in the doorway to Stella's office, looking back with a wondering expression.

"I just want all this to be over."

"It is Mac."

"He's still alive Stella," is what he leaves her to ponder as he turns and heads into the hallway. Stella leans back in her chair and allows Mac's chilling words to sink into her heart. _Would it really come to that? But Wicks is in jail; he physically can't harm Mac any longer. _

"He has to stop calling Mac," Stella states angrily. But as much as she knows that Wicks hurt both mentally and physically she just can't see Mac taking a life; even one as worthless as Maurice Wicks in a fit of rage or just to ease his own mental torment. _Mac is bigger than that. _

She eyes the CD in her computer drive and frowns. She wants to watch more but not sure after Mac's confession just now if she even wants to. _What if he opens up again to me tonight later? _

"But I need to know."

Her finger hovers above the play button but fate intervenes by another phone call and her mind is temporarily distracted once again.

XXXXXXXX

Mac heads down into the evidence lab and eyes Danny at the table.

"You okay Mac?"

"Sorry for snapping earlier."

"Lose a bet or something?" Danny quips and Mac just offers a small smirk. "Heard your undercover op was a success."

"We got the bad guy if you mean it like that."

"That's always good right?"

"Right so what do we have?"

"This one is nasty Mac," Danny mentions as he hands him the crime scene photos. "The body is with Sid right now."

"What do we know?"

"From the traces of chloroform around his mouth it seems as he was drugged, kidnapped, sexually assaulted and then strangled."

"Assaulted," Mac mumbles in a low tone, his heart rate wanting to increase.

_'I'LL FINISH WHAT I STARTED,' _Wicks voice starts to dance in his head.

"Can't imagine that you know," Danny ponders as he hands Mac a bag of evidence. "Rope marks around the wrists suggest he was tied up."

_'Got lots of new toys for you Mac.__ You probably won't do much moving next time.'_

"I mean for a guy to...well you know...tie a guy down and then...I'm assuming he'd be tied face down?"

_'One that got away...NEXT TIME IT WILL BE YOU!'_

"Mac?" Danny gently taps his shoulder and Mac pulls back with a heavy frown. "Hey sorry man did I lose you there?'

"Sorry what?"

"Just can't imagine you know? What he was thikin' and all."

"Probably didn't have time to think."

"Yeah but when the guy was you know...doin' the deed."

_'I felt you Mac...felt you go hard...I know you liked it.'_

"What do you think it was like Mac?"

"How the hell should I know?" Mac barks angrily, causing Adam and another lab tech to look up in wonder. "Huh?"

"Hey I meant no offense. Just that we usually hear from women but...well I mean with men."

"What is your point?"

"Think he felt like a wimp or somethin'?" Danny shrugs.

"He was drugged," Mac growls; his anger rising, not at his co-worker in general but just at the topic and the fact that it once again forces Maurice Wicks to the forefront of his mind.

"Gosh can you imagine though if he came too...you know during the um...well the rape?"

"I'd die," Adam mentions with a frown. "And he couldn't call for help right? Wow that musta made it even worse. Poor guy."

_'Keep you gagged Mac.'_

"Any thoughts on motive Mac?" Danny continues.

"Mac would have kicked his ass," Adam states with pride.

Mac looks at him with a blank stare.

_'You will be with me and you will be HELPLESS!'_

"I um..."

"Think he knew the guy?" Adam adds to the discussion. "Can you imagine what kind of person you'd have to be to gain someone's trust and then um..."

"What about our vic? Think he knew his attacker? That would be just as bad. Right Mac?"

_'Miss me Mac? I missed you...will see you again...I know you liked it rough...I know you...'_

"I think it would be worse," Adam frowns.

"I think this needs to stop," Mac states firmly, prompting Danny and Adam to exchange glances.

"What Mac? We always discuss the ways the person died to get a better idea of who we are looking for while we wait for trace results," Danny shrugs. "Can't imagine what was going thought his head."

"Shame," Adam says. "Can you imagine if he would have survived that? I think I would rather be dead after um...after that."

"Would be tough to live with that knowledge and experience," Danny frowns. "I mean women survivors are never the same after they have...well you know."

"But for a guy it would be worse," Adam continues. "You'd never be able to look in the mirror again."

"Enough guys," Mac tries in a weaker tone; his mind once again racing.

"What if you were married? I wonder what your partner would think?" Danny inquires.

_'When you are alone with your thought...smy voice you'll hear.'_

"I said enough."

_'When you close your eyes...my face you'll see.'_

"Probably would pity you for sure," Adam replies.

_'You tell your wife about us...all the fun we had together?'_

"I said..."

"Wonder if you'd want to still have sex?" Danny counters.

_'All the fun we will have when we are together...you won't be able to move much...just you and me Mac.'_

"That would be really um...weird for sure" Adam huffs.

"Enough," Mac tries once more, his heart about to give way and his ear drums pounding so loud they are about to burst.

_'No one can stop me Mac. I WILL DESTROY YOU!'_

"ENOUGH!" Mac shouts in anger as he makes a move toward Danny, before he slams a small box down on the evidence table and storms out of the room. "I'll kill him."

"What the hell is going on?" Adam asks as Danny hurries after Mac.

"I don't know but I'm going to find out."

Danny enters the hallway only to see Mac disappear into the get into the elevator just as the doors close. "Mac!" Danny calls but is too late as the doors close and Mac is gone; prompting him to quickly pull his phone and call Stella.

_"He said what?"_

"He said, _'I'll kill him,' a_nd then stormed out of the room and into the elevator. Stella what is going on with Mac?" Danny inquires with a worried tone. "This morning...and then just now."

_"What led up to that?"_

"Just a discussion on our latest vic."

_"Anything specific?"_

"Well the guy was raped and strangled and Adam I were talking about what it must have been like for the guy but stuff that Mac has heard before. Stella, does he know the killer?"

"No, its no big deal Danny. It was something else. I'll call him and thanks," she lies and then hangs up, cursing herself for handing Danny the same line that Mac used on her. She rushes to a window only to see Mac jump into the back of a cab and then it drive away.

"Damn it Mac," she curses as she reaches for her phone; Flack appearing in the doorway. "We need to follow Mac and you are driving. Come on Mac, pick up," she begs her phone as she follows Flack out the door to her office.

"What? Where is Mac going?" Flack asks as they rush toward the elevator.

"To do something stupid."

"Such as?"

"Going to see Maurice Wicks."

* * *

**A/N:** Gosh guys, sorry this chapter was so long! But had so much to put in and hope that is okay! This isn't the big showdown with Mac and Wicks that is still to come. So hopefully you'll stick with this story and keep reviewing until the end. Gosh I/the muse need those reviews more than ever! thank you!


	12. Closer to the Breaking Point

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 12 - Closer to the Breaking Point**

**A/N: **Hey everyone I know this is such an angsty story and I do apologize b/c of all the angsty news with the show right now and our SMACKED but there will be a happy ending. Thanks so much for sticking with this story and hope you this update.

* * *

Mac didn't care what would happen to him; all he kept telling himself was if Maurice Wicks was dead, he'd have his life back. He wouldn't have to worry about snapping at his team or wondering if they were looking at him in a different light. But they didn't know. How could they know? Stella, he knew didn't tell them; and he was sure that Flack didn't spend his night gossiping to Danny about his near physical demise at the hands of Maurice Wicks.

_'Rather be dead,' Adam's_ words still haunt him. And although he knows that Adam was talking about their latest vic, if news ever got out about what Wicks had done or tried to do, he knows his sanity would be finished.

_'Tell your team...tell your team...your wife'_

What if Wicks did blackmail him? Could he count on his team to stand beside him one hundred percent and not look at him in a different light? Could he count on his mind not going insane and going off the deep end each time something with a tough case comes up.

Mac sees the turn off to Rikers coming up next and feels his fingers automatically rest on the handle of his gun; his mind racing at his present course of action.

_'If he's dead I'm free.'_

He closes his eyes but instead of seeing Wicks laughing he see himself telling his team, his team laughing in his face and Stella walking away in shame, tossing her wedding band behind her as she leaves in disappointment. He shakes his head and closes his eyes tight, gently hitting the side of the cab and then quickly apologizing to the wondering cabbie in the front seat.

Mac looks back out the window and then feels his phone starting to buzz to life. Thinking its Stella trying him once more his fingers reach for the off button but when his eyes rest on the incoming message title he stops; his stomach tightening once more.

_'My favorite picture of you Mac.'_

With some hesitation Mac presses the accept button and then gasps in horror as he looks at himself tied in place just before he was rescued; his prison uniform ripped, his mouth gagged and a look of pure horror on his face.

_'See you soon Mac.'_

"Bastard!" Mac curses as he stuffs his phone into his pocket; still on, which allows Adam to once again be able to trace his location and relay it to Stella and Flack. Part of the charges against Franklin Wicks; Maurice's older brother was the private collection of male porn; but the pictures they had been mostly interested in was those of the dead inmates. Mac now wonders if Adam had downloaded all of Franklin Wicks personal picture stash, did that include pictures of him as well? And was this the only one? What about the others? The shower? The Library? Solitary? Was he now the talk of sordid team gossip?

Mac's mind races with dizzying thoughts of humiliation and betrayal at his team seeing him in such a state that his normally calm intellect is pushed aside in favor of a rash decision.

XXXXXXXX

"Damn it Don, why the hell didn't you tell me any of this sooner? What other pictures on Wicks computer did you see? And how else has access to that?"

"Well Adam saw some of them but..."

"Any of Mac?" Stella asks in dread.

"I didn't go through them all. And Mac can't...I mean if he were...they're evidence Stella."

"Did Adam see any of Mac?" She demands again.

"No," he growls and then calms down. "Mac's um...secret is safe."

"It'll kill him if that ever got out," she laments as she turns and stares out the window. "Who is pulling all these favors for this creep? Can't we trust any of the guards?"

"I am going to personally hand pick one of them later on," Flack tells her in truth. "Then hopefully tomorrow for Mac will be free of Wicks torment."

"Damn this bastard!" She curses as she hits the side of the cruiser with her fist. "Does Jessica know anything more?"

"She knows Mac is tense and on edge but I simply tell her that all stuff with the Feds is like that and...trust me Stella, it's hard to lie to her."

"I know and I hate that you have to but..."

"But I am preserving his dignity and mental sanity so I don't mind," Flack replies as he looks over at her briefly. "Mac is a friend and would do the same for me. Besides it's not my story to tell."

"I know he would," Stella sighs as she looks at him with a soft smile. "I can't lose him."

"You won't."

"No I don't mean physically. I mean mentally. I don't want Maurice to win. I saw some of the stuff on that CD and..."

"And what?"

"And it was horrible; the words they offered Mac and the um...what they did."

"What did they do? You mean he endured more than when we saw him at the end there?"

"How much did you actually see?"

"Only brief snippets here and there," Flack confesses. "I think he had a small fight because he was telling Ron about it. I haven't had time to see the rest. This ass has kept me busy."

"You mean the third night?"

"Yeah."

"He was attacked Don."

"What?" Flack asks in shock. "How bad? Did they..."

"They did enough to make any man..." her voice trails as she looks out the window before them. "Want to do something stupid. We have to hurry."

XXXXXXXX

Mac watches the entrance to Rikers near and feels his anxiety starting to rise. He feels his gun starting to feel heavier on his side; of course that's in his mind, but now wonders if he'll actually be able to go through with his intended course of action.

Mac pays the cab driver and then stands before the entrance to the Taylor building, his fists clenched and his heart about to give way.

"I have to end this," he tells himself firmly. He stands fixed in time for what seems like an eternity; an intense inner battle between mind and heart, his very life on the line. A few minutes later, the sound of screeching tires behind him instantly force him from his morbid stupor, automatically turning his head to watch his wife and Flack exit his car and hurry toward him.

"What are you doing here Mac?"

"This is none of your business," Mac snaps.

"It is mine," Stella counters as she reaches him with a flushed face. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to pay him a visit."

"Not a good idea. Mac we are building a case against this guy and you are not thinking this through," Flack tries.

"I AM SO!" Mac shouts as he pulls away and heads for the front door; Flack blocking his path. "Get out of my way Don."

"Don't make me arrest you Mac."

"Get out of my..."

"Mac this is all his defense needs. You are the man who is making these claims and now you go and start harassing him? Because that is the song he'll sing and nothing you present will be credible. Pissing him off is just going to give him and whoever else is helping him more fuel for their weak fire."

"I WANT HIM DEAD!" Mac shouts in anger.

"So do I!" Flack counters with his own firm expression. "But I won't allow you to ruin your life just because..."

"He ruined mine!"

"He did not ruin your life Mac," Stella's fingers touch his arm. Mac feels himself involuntarily flinch and then watches in regret as his wife pulls away in haste.

"Mac, this is what his sick bastard wants. He wants you coming after him so he can use this against you. He wants these doubts and us being torn apart. He wants you to go in there and do something stupid so you can get suspended and he can just laugh his twisted ass off at us all. This will also hurt Ron, do you want that?"

Mac feels his frame untense a little as he looks at Stella in regret. "No I don't want any of that; Ron doesn't deserve that either."

"And neither do you."

"That damn bastard keeps calling me and...and I just want it to stop."

"I was working on that before I was sidetracked," Flack remarks with a soft smirk as he takes a step toward Mac. "But if you go in there, all my work will have been in vain and you know that."

Mac looks from Stella's concerned expression to Flack's worried one and feels his anger starting to subside a little and he finally nods in agreement.

"How's Danny?"

"Confused but I'm sure he'll understand you've had a rough day."

"Shouldn't have a rough day!" Mac snaps in contempt.

"In a few days a private hearing is going to happen for Maurice Wicks and then he'll be sentenced and sent up state."

"Really?" Mac arches his brows; knowing the reason. That if Maurice Wicks was left to spend his sentence in the jail where he was a guard, he'd be killed for sure. "He deserves to die," Mac grumbles as he heads for Flack's car and gets into the front passenger seat.

"Here take it back," Flack tosses the keys to Stella. "I'll get Jessica to pick me up."

"Don?"

"He needs you now Stella, and I'll just take care of this now instead of later."

"Thank you."

"Well I feel like I owe you somehow for uh...well for not telling you everything about Drew and the others when Mac was in there."

"I guess we all had to learn the hard way."

Stella offers Flack a nod before she turns and heads toward Flack's cruiser and then gets inside; glancing at Mac who has his eyes fixed on the somber building in front of him.

"I can't keep doing this Stella. I snapped at you...Danny and Adam...I feel like I have changed and I hate it but..." he pauses before he turns to her with a heavy frown. "But I don't know what to do."

"Want to go and see Dr. Adams?"

Mac leans back in his seat and runs a hand through his short hair before he pushes his forehead on the cool pane of the front window. He feels Stella's fingers on his hand that is resting on his thigh and looks up with a soft frown. "I won't let him win."

"Let's go see Ben. Talk to him Mac, maybe you'll um...well maybe you'll want to talk to him."

"Stella..."

"It's okay Mac," she tells him as she leans in closer. "I think I understand," she says as she plants a soft kiss on cheek and then pulls back.

"Y-you do?"

"Well sort of; at least your reasoning at not wanting to tell me. You want to tell another man right?"

"Stella," Mac tries again.

"I just hope you'll believe me that I'll never think less of you Mac if you did tell me."

"I know," he admits as he nods his head in agreement.

"But we'll go only if you want to."

"The team can't suffer any more of this because of me," Mac insists. "I have never yelled or made a move to hurt any of my team Stella. How can I face them now?"

"You are human Mac and a simple apology will suffice, although I'm sure if you tell them you had a bad day, they'll understand."

"It shouldn't have even come to that."

"But it did Stella, and it was because of m..."

"That monster in there. So that word that was starting with M better have been Maurice Wicks, because he is the only person to blame for all this. But not you...never you."

"It was my idea," Mac insists in frustration.

"You wanted to help those men Mac."

"And I ruined my life for my sense of justice!" Mac growls.

"Then so did I!" Stella counters.

"Pardon? Stella you told me not to do it."

"I could have gone to Sinclair and pulled the weepy female card," Stella smirks. "I believed in you Mac and I still do; nothing is ever going to change that."

"Well it should!"

"Why? Because that damn bastard in there told you that?"

"Because I let him!"

"You did not let him," Stella counters as she turns the key. "Come on Mac, you need to let this anger out."

"I did that with the punching bag."

"And you came here with a gun," Stella tells him with a heavy sigh. "I don't know how to help you with this Mac. I mean with Claire it..well I knew her so it was easier for me to help you cope but this...each person deals with trauma differently and...and I don't know what else to do. Dr. Adams will know and he wants to help us Mac. He cares about us and is a friend."

"I can't tell him."

"Then get him to recommend someone; but you need to let it out. We'll get other cases about sexual assault against men and you know the team has to postulate theories, hell you taught them that. But you need to deal with this now before more time passes and it's allowed to fester and your life turns in on itself."

"I don't want that," Mac tells her in truth as his fingers close around hers. "I really wanted dinner toni..."

"Mac," Stella quickly interrupts by pressing her lips against his. "I'll be here tomorrow night. We'll go out then."

"Good," Mac smiles as he leans back and allows her to finally pull away from the ominous looking building that Flack was now inside trying to make his deal.

XXXXXXXX

"You can wipe that damn smile off your face Wicks, your deals are over."

"What's the matter Detective Flack, Mac Taylor can't fight his own battles?"

"He's busy."

"You a friend of his?"

"Now you are going to..."

"You know I don't normally do threesomes but I'd make an exception for you."

"How about twenty-five? You like that number?" Flack counters. "Because that is what you'll be getting in a few days. Twenty-five to life."

"I doubt that very much. How has Detective Taylor been sleeping? With his wife or alone?"

"You ever think about the lives you've destroyed Wicks?"

"I think about the one that got away."

"Yeah well you're done now. Guard!" Flack growls. "Oh and your new guard? Someone of _my_ choosing and trust me it's not just your phone privileges that have been revoked."

"Hard to keep a good man down," Wicks states with a wink. "Course I was able to keep Mac Taylor down...well just for a bit. But next time..."

"Listen to me you sick son of a bitch," Flack snaps as he grabs a handful of Wicks prison uniform and yanks him forward. "You better be happy that Mac is busy and that I'm here. Because in a fair fight, he'd kick your ass in seconds."

"Hmm thought you'd say with two hands tied behind his back. Yeah been there done that Detective and I won," Wicks huffs as he yanks himself free. "Problem with you and Taylor is you are both a bunch of goody goodies; you have to play by my rules to understand me."

"I don't need to understand you to know how much I despite you. I'm done here," Flack slams his open palm on the desk and then turns to leave; his ears picking up the haunting laughter of Maurice Wicks as he leaves the room, the laughter bouncing off the walls and echoing down the long empty hallway he walks, heading for Jessica and freedom.

"You okay?" Jessica asks softly.

"I can see why he's scared of him," Flack mutters under his breath.

"Who?"

"What? Sorry talkin' to myself. You ready to go?"

"You got what you needed in there?"

"I did; now let's back to the precinct so we can finish up and then relax tonight. How about distracting me for once?"

"I think that can be arranged Detective Flack," Jessica smiles as she pulls away from the building.

XXXXXXXX

Stella stops the police cruiser in front the ER and then looks at Mac. "Want me to wait?"

"You don't want to come in?"

"Just thought that you uh...do you want me to?"

"I don't want to do this alone."

"You're never alone Mac," Stella tells him firmly as they both come to a mutual understanding and then head into the ER; hands clasped.

Mac feels his doubt starting to take hold but knows that he can't keep up his inner angst and frustration without finally exploding and maybe doing something really drastic toward the team or worse Stella. _I would die if I ever hurt her on purpose. _He remembers how he had hurt Stella's cheek and feels his stomach tighten; even more so as they reach Dr. Adams's office.

"Stella..."

"I'm here Mac, all the way. But I'll wait here," she tells him firmly. "You can do this. I know you can."

"I can," Mac reaffirms to himself as he is gestured to go into Dr. Adams's office. He looks back at Stella who smiles in return before he enters Dr. Adams office and looks at the older man with a slight frown.

"Welcome young man, are you alone?"

"Stella's outside," Mac states as he leans against the closed door.

"Mac, what is it?"

"I uh...I need help but I...well I don't know...maybe I should leave."

"Mac, sit down awhile," Dr. Adams entreats.

Mac slowly sits down in front of Dr. Adams and feels his anxiety rise immediately.

"You look a little tired but the swelling above your eye has subsided. How do you feel?"

"Tired," Mac quips as his fingers tighten around the arms of the chair.

"You know," Dr. Adams looks at Mac's white knuckles and then smiles when Mac finally looks up. "I'm sure Stella has offered you this line but you know whatever you tell me stays with me right? And that I won't think less of you right?"

"It's just that...well today I snapped at Danny and...well I almost hit him and...I've been mean to Stella and..." his voice dies out as he casts his glance down to his fingers. "And she doesn't deserve that. None of them do."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I can't...I just want it to go away and I know that's a bit deluded but..."

"It is deluded Mac. How about to a professional?"

"Who?" Mac asks in haste.

"Trust me Mac, no one you will know but a man who wants to help."

"A man?"

"Would you prefer a woman?"

"No. But will he understand?"

"And also sympathize," Dr. Adams states as he pulls out a small piece of paper. "But more importantly a man who doesn't know you and will not judge you. He's only going to listen to whatever you want to tell him and give you help based on that. As much or as little; whatever you need to clear those demons in your head."

"I want to do this on my own...I just feel like...like I have failed myself and Stella in some way."

"Allowing the pain and hatred inside to fester without asking for help is failing yourself and Stella in a big way. Sometimes, especially for men we are born and raised; taught from birth that we are strong and don't need to ask for help or it's a sign of weakness on our part. I'm sure that mantra was only reinforced inside your mind when you joined the marines. However, you also never faced something like this; so asking for help in dealing with something new isn't a sign of weakness Mac; it's a sign of trust and strength."

"And what will he think?"

"He doesn't know you Mac? Everything is kept confidential; hell you can even call yourself Mickey Mouse if you'd like," Dr. Adams finishes with on a lighter note. "I know you don't want to fully open up to me and I understand Mac, but I do want you to open to someone."

"Think Stella will hate me for opening up to a stranger instead of her?"

"Trust me Mac, when you are ready you are going to tell her every minute of what happened. But until then I think you know the answer to that. There is no way that woman would ever turn on you. The love she has for you is strong; stronger right now than the day I witnessed the two of you taking your vows. She's going to be with you every step of the way."

"I love her Ben, more than my own life."

"Then help save the life by getting the proper help Mac," Dr. Adams said as he hands Mac a card. "Talk to Brent. How are your ribs?"

XXXXXXXX

_'Wicks has had his phone privileges revoked and I have the pictures from his brothers computer. Mac's dignity is safe. I am working on Wicks transfer right now. by tomorrow he should be out of the state and out of Mac's life for good. Mac should have a good day tomorrow. Don.'_

Stella looks at the text and feels some small amount of comfort starting to settle upon her but now wonders who Mac is faring. Did he actually get a name from Dr. Adams? Did he tell Dr. Adams anything that might help his mind settle? Will he regret her wanting to bring him her and they'll spend another night ahead in strained misery? After what seems like a small eternity Mac finally emerges with a tense smile on his face.

"I guess we should get back to work," Mac suggests as he offers her a slight nod but continues for the door. Stella looks at Dr. Adams, who is standing in his doorway and gives him a questioning shrug. He mouths, _'everything is okay,' _once again settling her mind a little before she turns and follows Mac outside into the busy ER waiting area. But it's not until they are back inside the confidential confines of the police cruiser that Mac finally answers her question, as to _'how did it go?'_

"It...well he gave me a name of someone to talk to."

"And?"

"And I have an appointment to see him tomorrow," Mac tells her as he looks at her happy expression. "But..." he starts and her smile fades.

"Mac, please don't second guess yourself," she lightly begs.

"It's just that...and I know Dr. Adams said you wouldn't care but..."

"This is about me?"

"Stella, I want to tell you, I do...and I know you say you won't judge me or..."

"But you want to tell him things and not me?" She asks softly, her mind now racing as to confess to him about her seeing him being attacked and roughly fondled against his will in the library. "I won't think less of you Mac, I love you. But I do understand."

"I just want..." he tries only to have his face turn away and his lips emit a heavy sigh. Her fingers gently touch his chin and turn his tormented gaze in her direction. "I want to tell you the details Stella, have you find the small glint of silver in the dark clouds from those stories but I fear there is none this time."

"Drew and Larry and the others can now rest in complete peace now Mac because of you. Yes they paid the ultimate price and yes so did that fellow Bart, but Ron is alive and Wicks is in jail, most likely for the rest of his life. You are alive and I love you; that is the glint of silver. And I think going to talk to a man that has no connection to you or us or this whole ordeal in any way is going to help you open up and just talk it all out."

"Ben said the said thing."

"We both love you Mac."

"Hate feeling weak or vulnerable or..."

"How about experienced? Because that is what you are now. I was never able to sympathize, I mean personally with any woman that suffered domestic abuse, but I survived Frankie and now can tell others that I do understand, that I do know what they are going through and help them to see they aren't alone and can get past whatever it is they are trying to get past. You now can do the same for any man that comes forward as a survivor of any kind of attempted or successful assault from another man or group of men."

"The team doesn't know Stella. I don't want them to know."

"And I will respect and back you on that decision, one hundred percent. But talking to this guy..." she stops as Mac hands her the card. "Brent, is going to help you know what emotion to show the team and what to keep suppressed; and if you keep suppressed knowing inside it's your choice and for their betterment."

"You know you are amazing right?" Mac's lips curl into a soft smile. "I could never do this without you."

"This time I will agree," she teases as she kisses his cheek. "You sure you want to go back to work?"

"I am not going to allow Maurice Wicks push me into any further corners and we do have work to do. Anything from Don?"

"He said that Wicks is being transferred tomorrow to an upstate holding facility and he'll be out of our lives for good," Stella informs Mac as she directs the cruiser out of the parking lot. She wants to ask him about dinner but figures that after another emotionally draining showdown and then his discussion with Flack and Dr. Adams, knows that he'd probably just want to order in; something that suited her just fine.

"Thank God," he Mac offers a small prayer of thanks, telling himself that he would go and see the physiatrist tomorrow, get the rest of the sordid details off his chest and then with Wicks out of the area, finally concentrate on getting his life back to where it was before this nightmarish detour occurred. But as they head for the lab, Mac's mind ponders the knowledge that Stella has now armed him with; he his a survivor and therefore able to sympathize with those that either came close or at least understand a little of what a man might be thinking if he had to endure the whole thing. They reach the lab and Mac feels his apprehension starting to grow; mostly from his earlier actions toward Danny and Adam but knows that he has to make amends, praying they'll just understand and not ask too many questions.

"Ready?"

"Are we still going out for dinner later?" Mac inquires softly as they head toward the elevator. "You thought I forgot?"

"Wasn't sure you still wanted to? Was prepared to order in and have a bubble bath and just relax."

"Hmmm I think I like the sound of that."

"Really?"

"Stella, I've turned down every..."

"Mac, I am not keeping track; but I have missed you in _that _way."

"In _what way?_" He arches his brows and forces a small chuckle from her lips. Mac smiles as Stella presses her body into his; delighting in the warmth of their connection and feels his mind starting to settle a little more. When Dr. Adams had handed Mac, Brent's card, Mac told himself that he only took it to humour the doctor, that he had no intention of actually going to see the stranger and spilling his guts to a man that really had no business knowing such intimate things. But as he thought more about it and realizes that Brent doesn't know him and will only listen to what he tells him. _I dont have to tell him everything. I'll just give him a few details about what Wicks said and that would be it._

"Okay I gotta finish up with Sheldon and I'll see you later."

"Sure," Mac gives her a nod and then heads for the evidence lab, hoping that it'll just be Danny and Adam he offers his small apology too. He enters the room and notices them both hovering around Adam's computer and finally wonders what the pictures that were found on Franklin Wicks personal computer at work. Were there any of him? His mind once again starts to race, his body almost ready to turn around and find Flack and ask before he suffers another panic attack. But that plan is moot once Danny turns around and addresses him.

"Hey Big Mac," Danny states with a slight frown. "You know about earlier..."

Mac holds up his hand and Danny stops talking. "Actually Ihad something else on my mind and I over reacted. I didn't mean to lunge out at you and I'm sorry."

"Yeah boss we are too. We um...well we got kinda carried away," Adam confesses with a heavy frown. "Well to be honest it was natural to wonder those things if..." Adam starts.

"If it had happened to us?" Danny finishes.

"Exactly; no harm done. Okay so what do we have?"

XXXXXXXX

"Hey you okay?" Jessica asks Stella a few hours later; Stella staring out her office window with a blank expression on her face.

"Just tired."

"Mac still having nightmares about the deaths?" Jessica inquires, not having all the personal information that Flack was privy too.

Stella looks at her friend and offers a soft frown. While Jessica was one of her closest female friends, Mac is her husband and best friend and she owes him not only her silence and discretion but also to maintain his dignity and privacy.

"And of course the nightmares keep me awake."

"And you're tired," Jessica finishes. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Just keep me sane when Mac is not around."

"That I can do," Jessica assures her friend as she hands her her police field notes and both talk a bit before Mac walks toward them and Jessica politely takes her leave.

"She didn't have to leave," Mac states with a frown, wondering if the talk had been focused on him. And as much as he tries to tell himself that not every whispered word, muffled giggle and embarrassed expression is directed toward him; its only in his mind, something he knows he needs to cure and fast.

"She had a case to finish up. You finished your stuff?"

"I am. You ready to go for dinner?"

Stella looks at Mac in surprise but knows that she needs to go with whatever mood he's in; anything to keep his mind away from the events that had happened earlier. Even for herself, after seeing that brief footage, hearing Mac struggle and then finally Wicks terrifying thoughts when he was captured still make her stomach tighten. A night out at a nice restaurant is what they would both need.

"Greek?"

"My favorite," Mac replies softly. "Did you want to go home and change?"

"Might not make it out the door if I have to watch you undress," Stella tells him in truth as she walks over to him. _'Remember Stella, Mac will think of himself as different. Especially when you are intimate,' Dr. Adams had told her. 'If you back off or change your attitude toward him, making it very noticeable or different from the past, he'll think you now consider him different or undesirable and that will not only affect him but your intimate life in the long run. Just be around him the way you always have been. Even if he doesn't respond like he did right away; he'll get back there. You just need to show him you love him as much as you did before.'_

"I see," Mac replies as his face warms; his core starting to heat further as her fingers move from the lapel of his suit jacket to the waist band of his dress pants but not moving lower, always mindful of the workplace setting. "Stella," Mac gently clears his throat.

"Mac," Stella states, making his lips finally twitch upward into a shy smile. "Hungry?"

"Sure."

"Mac?"

"I'm just a bit tired but I do want to go out for dinner. Might force me to...well to keep my mind off certain events that happened today."

"I don't want to always chase you to talk to me Mac," Stella pipes up finally after a few seconds of growing silence.

"I know but..." Mac starts only to have Stella lean in closer, resting her cheek on his and her lips nearing his ear.

"Let's go eat."

Mac offers her a nod in silent agreement and then waits for Stella to get her jacket before they head toward the elevator, arm in arm, lightly talking about Stella's case that just wrapped up; neither wanting to bring up Maurice Wicks; knowing it would kill the mood and focus Mac's mind to dwell on a man that is still determined to make his life a living hell.

They reach the restaurant and Mac finally feels his body a little more at ease for the first time in days. He slips into the booth across from Stella and offers her a tired smile, his fingers reaching for hers and clasping them tightly. No words are needed as both of them know the power of silence and the bond shared with just a touch. He had worried that when Wicks was able to call or when he had sent the horrid picture that his day would have ended with himself locking himself in a room with only another bottle of whisky; trying in vain to drown the face of Maurice Wicks from his mind.

"Mac?"

"What do you feel like eating?"

"You," Stella flirts again. "Does it make you uncomfortable when I flirt with you?"

"No. Would be sad if you didn't but I am just kinda nervous about...nevermind."

"Then don't think about later Mac. Think about here and now. You are out with your amazing wife," Stella pauses with a big smile, prompting Mac's lips to curl wider. "Eating our favorite garlic filled food and just enjoying some down time together. Gotta just let go Mac."

"Guess I have always looked at the bigger picture but since I can't see what I'll be like tomorrow I have a hard time just letting go right now."

"How about letting go for the next five minutes while I order," Stella mentions as the waiter comes and she mentions the items.

"What did you order me?"

"Something tempting."

"A side of Stella?" Mac counters and then looks up at Stella in mild surprise. "Well it's true."

"Mmm, well handsome you can have that for dessert if you'd like," Stella whispers as she leans in and tempts his lips with hers. "Deal?"

"Deal."

The rest of the dinnertime conversation revolved around a few renovations they had planned for the spare bedroom that now doubled as an office and storage room; the room Stella had found Mac nearly passed out on the floor in. Thankfully that memory didn't come up; something Mac feared Stella might mention when they started talking about the room. But as they finished their dinner, headed outside and into a cab and then neared their apartment, Mac finally felt that his anxiety had subsided enough to want to try to make love to his wife; telling himself that Maurice Wicks cannot continue to win.

"You know I don't think I'll need to see Brent after all."

"Mac? Why?"

"I can do this on my own Stella."

"Mac..."

"Please?"

"Let's just go home and rest Mac, okay?"

They reach home; put away the few outstanding things and then head into the bedroom to unwind for the night. Stella watches Mac's back to her, tense and his eyes fixed ahead and knows that his mind is probably racing with what will happen next and if she'd be disappointed if he wasn't as enthusiastic as the times in the past.

Mac feels Stella's eyes watching his every move and tries to calm his anxiety and nervousness by telling himself that Wicks is in jail; that his phone privileges have been revoked for good by Flack and they are safe and he'll be out of the area the next day.

Mac starts to unbutton his dress shirt and suddenly feels Stella's fingers on his shoulders moving to his neck and then finally coming to rest on his eyes, blocking out the light and forcing his member to want to harden in sexual anticipation.

"Stella..."

"Shhh Mac," Stella soothes as she leans in and kisses him on the ear. "Just try to relax."

Mac's mind drifts back to his discussion with Dr. Adams about their intimate life and knows that he has to push past his small fears of inadequacy, Dr. Adams reminding him that there was nothing wrong with him and he would be able to perform just as he did in the past as long as he removed the demons from his head.

Mac's arms help to remove his dress shirt, feeling Stella's fingers leaving his face and helping to push the fabric to the floor before he slowly turns around in her grasp, his hands resting on the small of her back, but his actions not as vigorous as in the past.

Stella's fingers gently snake behind his head, clasping a few dark strands as she guides his lips to hers. Mac finally feels his body starting to harden in response to her nearness and delights in the electrical warmth as passion floods them via Stella's hungry kisses.

But as her fingers start to move lower, his stomach starts to get a nervous tightness inside it. Her fingers dance around his waist band and knows that his member is going to harden on instinct but his mind was now racing as Maurice Wicks voice still shouts to be heard; wanting more than anything to push Stella away and dominate Mac's every minute.

"You okay Mac?" Stella asks when she feels her husband tense in her grasp; but tense in a way that made her fingers stop their actions from moving lower.

"Sure," Mac replies with some hesitation.

"Good," Stella murmurs as she gently pushes him against the closet, her body starting to meld into his; her lips smiling as she can feel his erection starting to grow; signaling to her that he is in the mood and maybe just maybe he's been able to push aside Maurice Wicks and concentrate on them.

But as she pushes his pants to the floor, leaving just his black boxers between their upcoming connection, Mac's heart rate stars to soar.

_'Your wife know about us?'_

"Stella..."

"It's okay Mac."

_'You'll never be normal.'_

"I just..."

"I love you Mac. Concentrate on that."

Have to try, Mac tells himself as he closes his eyes and prays that his mind and heart can concentrate on Stella's desirable actions; trying to once again push Wicks voice out of his head.

_'You'll always be tainted Mac.'_

"Hmm you feel different Mac," Stella whispers in his ear; her words innocent but that fuel the already evil voice inside his head.

_'You'll always be different Mac.'_

Wicks voice keeps getting louder, laughing at Mac as he yells that Mac is different and that he'll never be able to function normally ever again. Mac feels his erection starting to subside and looks at Stella in frustration.

"What is it?"

"How am I _different_?" Mac asks in a soft tone; his voice thick with worry and tension.

"I meant that in a good way Mac."

"Sure," he grumbles.

"Mac don't worry about it. It just...I havent had you in my arms for...gosh you haven't shaved...Mac it was nothing!"

"But you said different," Mac argues as his eyes beg for an explanation. "You think of me different now?"

"Okay so now you are jumping to the wrong conclusion," Stella resigns.

"Did Flack say something?"

"What? No," Stella insists as she looks at Mac in surprise. "Mac, I'm sorry it was nothing."

"Did you see any of the footage?"

"No...I...well I have seen..."

"You have? Which parts!" Mac demands in anger.

"It doesn't matter. Mac I love you and it was just a slip of the tongue," Stella tries to explain.

"I am different!" Mac growls as he pushes Stella away. "Are you coming on to me just out of pity?"

"Okay now you are over reacting," Stella puts her hands up in exasperation. "And that isn't fair."

"What did you see?"

"Where?"

"On the footage? Which part?"

"It doesn't matter! Mac I lov..."

"Which parts!" He shouts.

"The library!" Stella shouts back as she takes a step back; Mac's body completely returned to normal.

"Why the hell did you watch it!"

"Because you won't tell me anything! I feel like a damn stranger and your up and down act just frustrated me! Blame me al you want."

"I...I can't do this Stella."

"Don't let him win Mac! Don't let him tear us apart like this."

"He didn't, _you said_ I'm different!" Mac accuses as he pushes past her and storms down the hallway, into the bathroom and locks the door.

"Unbelievable," Stella offers a heavy sigh as she heads toward the locked bathroom door. "Mac, I'm sorry, if you want to blame me for all this then that's fine," her voice softens as her eyes water. "If you want to push me away and think that I'm the problem then that is fine!" She tells him in frustration as a few tears start to escape and run down her warm cheeks. "I love you Mac and I made a mistake and for that I am sorry."

"Stella," Mac laments as he sits on the closed toilet seat; his face buried in his hands a few tears escaping and dripping onto the tile floor as silent witnesses to his emotional torment.

"I love you Mac, I want you to believe me. Yes I saw that footage and it ripped my heart out a million times. I heard the fear in your voice and I heard the ugly disgusting things that..."

"He touched me Stella!" Mac finally shouts. "God...don't you get it!"

"No, I don't because you won't tell me," she tries to reason through the locked door.

"You heard it Stella, why do I have to tell you! Now please...just leave me alone."

"Don't do this Mac."

"I...I just can't...I can't get him out of my damn head!" Mac growls.

"Then come out here and let me help you; come out and talk to me!"

"I can't!" Mac yells and then quickly subsides, his head pounding and his heart aching. "I...I just can't," his voice dies out as he slumps back against the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. He hears Stella's slight whimpering outside the bathroom door and shakes his head at his own ignorance.

_Stella, I'm so sorry_, Mac's mind states in misery. He remains fixed in place for what seems like forever until he hears no more noises outside and wonders if Stella has finally gone to sleep. About twenty minutes later, another tormented nightmare jolts him awake and he quickly curses the small pain in his neck from his foolhardy actions. With a heavy sigh and a whispered curse, Mac starts to open the door; telling himself that he would just sleep on the couch and allow Stella to have some semblance of a peaceful night sleep. But when he opens the door, he's greeted by a sad surprise.

Stella at his feet, asleep on the floor; black mascara marks down her cheeks, stains the tears made as they mixed with the thick makeup, her fingers having no energy or willpower to wipe them away. And the longer he stares at the sad expression on her face, his mind finally cements his next course of action.

"Oh Stella what have I done," Mac laments as he slowly bends down. And without regard for his tender and healing ribs, Mac gently gathers her up in his arms and slowly heads for the bedroom.

Stella's eyes finally open and she looks at Mac in panic. "Mac...your ribs."

"They're okay. Stella I'm so sorry," Mac whispers as he leans in and kisses her on the mouth just as he reaches the bedroom and carefully eases her onto the soft quilt and then moves himself under the blanket beside him.

"Mac, I'm so sorry also," Stella offers in haste.

"No Stella I...gosh I'm sorry. I hurt you and I never meant to," Mac offers in misery as he rests his forehead on hers. "Please forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive Mac," Stella quickly assures him. "I know you are still struggling with this and..."

"But I shouldn't have to Stella. It's not fair to either of us. I want to perform but I can't get his damn voice out of my head when I..."

"When you become aroused?"

"I love you Stella, please believe me."

"I'll never stop loving you Mac, ever. But I am worried."

"And for that I know I need to uh...well to get help to get this...if going to see some damn shrink is going to clear the demons from my head then I am going to go and see him. It's not fair to either of us that he controls me even now with just a few terrifying words and haunting pictures. I am going to go and see Brent tomorrow."

"Really?"

"I need to Stella, for myself and for us. I won't let Wicks win. If I have to do this, talk to some stranger and fight to get my very sanity back then so be it."

"I'm glad to hear it," Stella smiles as her fingers rest on his flushed cheek. "You know I'm behind you ever step of the way?"

"I know," Mac agrees as he leans in and kisses her on the mouth.

"Come here," she whispers as she leans back and eases his head onto her chest, her fingers gently massing his tense temples.

"Tomorrow I take back my life and Maurice Wicks goes way for the rest of his."

XXXXXXXX

"Are you sure this will work?" Maurice Wicks asks his visitor in a hushed tone, nothing being picked up on any kind of recording device.

"You're as good as free; it will happen tomorrow as planned. And then we'll all head out of state and someplace safe."

Wicks offers a nod as he watches his visitor leave before he slumps back onto the small bed in the holding cell. He pulls out the new phone that he was just given; a phone that Flack had directed he wasn't to have. Wicks lips curl into a wicked smile as his dark eyes continue to gaze hungrily upon the forbidden photo on the screen before him.

_"Before I disappear I have one more thing to take care of. See you soon Detective Taylor. Tomorrow your life ends."_

* * *

**A/N:** Well one more hurdle for Mac and then a few chappies to go before the happy ending. Hope you all stick with it until the end and keep the muse going with your great reviews. THANKS SMACKIES

**PS:** yes am still working on trying to get back on the road for PB and NY.


	13. Lay it All on the Line

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 13 - Lay it All on the Line **

***Sensitive matter discussed**

* * *

Mac wasn't sure if it was Stella's body pressed up against his all night, or the constant reminder from his brain that he would talk to the shrink, get his inner anger toward Maurice Wicks and his own inner securities toward sexual inadequacy out in the open and all would be okay; his mind was finally able to get him into a few solid hours of rest where he saw only images of their wedding, not the tormenting highlight reel of his time with Wicks.

_I would be lost without her, _Mac thinks as he watches Stella's beautiful face at peaceful sleep. He closes his eyes momentarily and thinks back to when he found her asleep on the floor in front of the bathroom door she where she kept her silent vigil, always at his side; always wanting to assure him that she would never leave him, no matter what he foolishly insisted inside his own worried brain.

He waits with anticipation as her eye lids slightly flutter; but is soon greeted with sparkling emeralds, a beautiful contrast to his own warm sapphires.

"Morning."

"Morning," Mac replies as he leans in and plants a warm kiss on her cheek. "I never want you to fall asleep like you did last night on the floor Stella."

"It's where I was needed Mac. I have slept alone enough when you were away," she tells him truthfully. "I'm just glad our hallway is carpeted."

"Yeah me too," Mac slightly frowns as he gently tucks a golden curl behind her ear.

"I know that face, are you having second thoughts about your decision last night?"

"No. Just nervous. This time I can't stop thinking ahead; as much as I'd like to dwell on right now, I can't seem to do that."

"Well it's understandable Mac but I know you are doing the right thing. You need to just get off your chest what you won't tell me."

"Stella..."

"And before you tell me you can't I understand. I can't see into your brain Mac and don't know the fear a man must feel when..."

"Another man nearly violates him?" Mac asks in torment.

"Yes. I would know how a woman feels but then I wasn't in the same situation as you and can't know what you are feeling inside. I hope this man can help but mostly I just want you to rid yourself of these...well these thoughts that won't allow you the happiness you deserve."

"That's just it," Mac huffs as he rolls onto his back and slumps down, looking up at his wife in misery. "I did deserve all this."

"What?"

"I went in there knowing what kind of man Wicks was Stella. I knew and I still thought that..."

"Mac you wanted to help."

"And in turn if he had...well gone all the way...it would have been my fault. Oh maybe I do deserve this misery; I thought it wouldn't happen to me, I told myself that before I went in. In fact I so arrogantly presumed that when I was talking to Jimmy. I thought I was untouchable."

"Mac..."

"Don't you see Stella? This is my fault, this fellow Brent can't help with that. It's not like I was some innocent victim that..."

"Are you hearing yourself Mac? I think that is your biggest problem and I'm glad you are going to see Brent. In fact if I have to well..."

"Well what?" Mac inquires.

"I would say handcuff you but somehow I doubt you'd get much fun out of that notion right now but...please Mac go and see this Brent. Even just this once. For me?" Stella gently pleads.

Mac looks up at her with a faint frown before his fingers come to rest against her soft cheek. "I would be lost without you," he whispers, before his fingers move to under her chin and slowly guide her face to his. "Thank you for loving me so much."

"I love you more than you probably will ever know Mac," Stella replies as she pulls back from the electrifying kiss with a warm smile. "And I doubt you'll ever know that when you hurt I hurt just as much."

"I know because when you are hurting so am I."

"Are you going to go?"

"First thing this morning," Mac assures her with a firm nod. "For us Stella."

"For us Mac," Stella answers as she snuggles down a little closer, her fingers resting on his chest.

"I miss us," Mac laments as he feels his member wanting to harden but this time nerves keeps him from getting even a semi erection.

"How about tonight we try again?"

"I'd like that."

"So would I," Stella smiles as she leans in, her lips wanting to hungrily devour his; finally succeeding and offering them both a few minutes of much needed passion.

XXXXXXXX

"Wicks transfer is in a few hours," Stella informs Mac as they head toward the professional medical building that houses Brent McAllister and few other trained doctors.

"The sooner the better," Mac sighs as his eyes dart nervously around the strange neighbourhood. "I can't thank Don enough for all his help. Does Jessica know yet?"

"No, Don thought it would be better that way. And Adam hasn't seen the pictures so you can just relax about those things. Sinclair is working with Warden Ollenstein on clearing the prison of the rest of the guards that had any dealings with Maurice Wicks and soon he'll be sentenced and then...well then it will really all be over."

"Yeah," Mac sighs as he pushes his fingers through his hair, his eyes still fixed outside.

"You do believe me Mac?"

"I..." Mac starts as he looks at her with a perplexed glance. "Yes I do."

"Truthfully?"

"Somehow until I wake up one night without a Wicks nightmare where I'm um...yes I do," Mac finally resigns as they reach the medical building.

Without saying any both of them exit the truck and head toward the entrance, Stella's fingers gently curling around Mac's as they head through the door and then into the elevator. She feels his skin start to cool under her touch and knows his anxiety must be rising and wonders how he'll fare after the session is over. Will he be able to carry on for the rest of the day? Will he be too distracted? Too down? Her mind races with so many questions as they near the entrance to Dr. McAllister's door. Stella is told to wait in the waiting area if she wants while Mac is told he can go in.

"You sure you want to wait?"

"This is where you are right?" Stella counters and Mac's fingers tighten around hers as he offers her a soft smile. He gives her a nod before he turns and heads toward the front door. _I can do this, _Mac's mind chants over and over again as he slowly pushes the door open and peers into the room. He sees an empty desk but his attention is quickly drawn to a tall man with reddish blond hair standing in the corner.

"Dr. McAllister?"

The man turns to him with a smile. "Mac?" He asks with a slight Welsh accent; a voice now weathered by being in New York for so long.

"Hello," Mac states, trying to sound casual and praying his voice doesn't come across as shaky as he feels right now. But when Mac won't move from his place beside the door, Dr. McAllister looks at him in wonder.

"You can come in Mac, I promise I won't bite," Dr. Adams offers kindly as he walks up to Mac with an inviting smile.

"Right of course," Mac gently frowns as he slowly heads for an empty chair and eases himself down, his eyes darting around; his heart racing.

"So how are you today Mac? Mind if I call you Mac? Or Mr..."

"Mac is fine."

"Mac, please call me Brent and I know this will be hard, but please try to relax. I know everyone who walks through that door, especially the first time, and especially a man is very nervous. But think of me as a friend rather than a doctor; that title is kinda stuffy. The more comfortable you are with all this, the easier it's going to be for me to help you. Okay?"

"Sure. So um...so do I just tell you everything that happened and we uh...go from there?" Mac asks in hesitation.

"Gosh no that would shell shock both of us," Dr. McAllister replies softly. "We'll start out nice and easy. So you ever done this before? Talk to someone like me?"

"No."

"Ever face a major stressor in your life before?"

"I lost my wife on 9/11."

"That would do it. And how did you fare after that?"

"Okay I guess. I'm still here."

"I see. And who helped you through?"

"My best friend and partner, Stella."

"Ah your wife?"

"How did you know that?"

"Ben talks about you to as if you're his own children," Dr. McAllister smiles; referring to Dr. Adams.

"He said..."

"I said he talks about _you_ Mac, not what you went through. That is for you to tell me. And have you talked to Stella about what you are here to see me about?"

"What did Dr. Adams tell you?"

"He told me you needed my help."

"That's it?"

"Are you expecting a hidden agenda Mac? He said you were in a very stressful situation. But I am here to listen to you and then help you based on what _you_ tell me."

"There isn't much to tell."

"Isn't or won't be?"

"What?" Mac inquires.

"Isn't means there wasn't in truth a lot that happened to you; won't means that something bad did happen but that you won't tell me all of it."

"I'm not sure."

"Just don't try to live up to some old fashioned or ill conceived male stereotype."

"What does that even mean?"

"Society used to believe that while male assault occurs it's not an acceptable form of discussion. That's why in the past, programs were tailored more towards female survivors since it was more openly discussed. Programs to help male survivors were not even heard of or if it was those that discussed such things were sometimes viewed as perverts and so the programs suffered. But now with our changing lifestyles and more male survivors coming forward and wanting to find some relief, better programs have been put in place that help the male survivor. And his family. The days of a man just holding it all inside because that is what society dictated are thankfully gone."

"Stella knows."

"Some or all?"

"Some. She doesn't need to know the rest."

"While you might think that Mac, your psychological well-being has changed and I think you know that, more than anyone. You family has to be prepared and so do you. Talking about what happened will help you deal with such things as depression, anger, guilt, self-blame, sexual dysfunction, flashbacks, and suicidal feelings. And while you might not feel those emotions all at once trust me they are there waiting to surface. Other things I will help you come to terms with are an increased sense of vulnerability, damaged self-image and emotional distancing. Believe me Mac all these things are situations that you will face at one time or another in the future if you don't seek help right now. You need to be able to handle them before they happen. Because if they do and you are not prepared or your family isn't prepared the consequences can be disastrous."

"But if I tell myself I won't then won't that be better? Mind of matter and that kind of thing?"

"How long can you last doing that Mac? How long can you go holding it all inside before it explodes and takes you with it on its path to self-destruction? How long can you last on your own?"

"I have to try," Mac replies sadly.

"To seek help Mac is not the sign of failure but of strength."

"What?" Mac asks in shock. "Since when is seeking help going to make me look stronger?"

"Since your life changed," Dr. McAllister replies kindly. "Want to tell me what happened? As much or as little as you want."

"I uh...I'm just not sure I can right now."

"Okay well then tell me about your relationship with Dr. Adams."

"Why?"

"Mac, I don't know you. I am meeting you right now for the very first time. Ben called me and said you were a special friend and he doesn't say that about everyone. I know you faced something terrible but that's it. I don't want to waste your time either but I also need to know what you have already talked about with either Ben or Stella."

"Ben and I are friends," Mac offers simply, feeling his core temperature starting to rise.

"Good friends? Does he know what happened to you?"

"For the most part."

"Is trust an issue for you Mac?"

"No I uh...I trust him bu,t" Mac's voice dies out. But when he sees that Dr. McAllister is waiting on him, he feels the need to continue, the uncomfortable silence continuing to build. "He knows some of what happened."

"And how do you feel that he knows?"

"It's...odd."

"Do you think he's looking at you differently?"

"What does..."

"Well you are a CSI and used to being observant. Anyone else know about what happened?"

"Look I don't think..."

"Are they looking at you differently?"

"I don't know!" Mac growls as he stands up to leave. "I can't do this," Mac states as he heads for the door. Dr. McAllister pushes himself up out of his chair and hurries after Mac, gently grabbing his arm and stopping him from opening the office door.

"If you run away each time a heated conversation starts about you or how you perceive others looking at you when it comes to anything sensitive that you have had to face or can relate to you'll be running all your life. Let me ask you again. Is Ben looking at you differently?"

Mac looks at Dr. McAllister with an anguished expression before he finally shakes his head no. "I don't think so."

"Are you sure?" Dr. McAllister urges.

"Yes, I'm sure," Mac finally admits.

"I know he's not. I just needed you to hear yourself admit it out loud," Dr. McAllister smiles as his hand leaves Mac's arm and rests on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I have faced similar problems Mac and thought when it first happened that everyone looked at me as though I had a big red target painted on my back. But I didn't let that get the mastery over me. Let me help you fight those feelings Mac. Let me help you stand up to your inner demons and win. Let me help you get your life back."

"I just want to forget it ever happened; I want it all to just go away," Mac states firmly, swallowing down a large lump and praying his eyes won't water any further.

"In time the pain will lessen."

Without saying another word Dr. McAllister gently leads Mac back to his chair and allows him to sit down before he pulls up a chair beside him, looking at him with a slight frown.

"What do you like about your job Mac?"

"Pardon?" Mac arches his brows. "What the hell does..."

"Humor me Mac. What do you like about your job?"

"I want this to go away! Can't you help with that?"

"I am. Now please tell me?"

"I like to know that I can put away bad people for a very long time and hopefully stop the same thing from happening to the next victim."

"So you like to be in control?"

"That's right," Mac states firmly.

"And you are the head of your crime lab?"

"I am."

"How do you view yourself on the job?"

"What? Look I don't know what..."

"Just tell me."

"Well I am the team leader."

"Strong and in control?" Dr. McAllister prods.

"Sure."

"And you like that about yourself?"

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?"

"Mac..."

"That's an unfair thing to make me think about right now!" Mac grumbles.

"Why?"

"Because I failed and I hate that and I hate myself right now!" Mac admits and then looks at Dr. McAllister in shock. "I'm sorry I..."

Dr. McAllister holds up his hand and gives Mac a slight smile. "Why are you sorry? You told me the truth. But why do you hate yourself? Are you still the boss?"

"Yes."

"So this situation didn't make you lose that?"

"No," Mac admits weakly.

"Did you lose the respect of your team?"

"I..."

"In truth Mac? Does your team think less of you."

"No."

"Does your wife think less of you?"

"No."

"So again why do you hate yourself, it sounds like nothing has changed at work with the team or how they or your wife view you."

"You are wrong," Mac insists.

"Explain."

"I let them all DOWN!" Mac fairly shouts as he looks away in anger. "I let everyone down, especially Stella. Why can't anyone see that?"

"Because that is only in your mind Mac. You let no one down."

"I let Stella down."

"Why do you feel like you let her down?"

"She told me not to go but I didn't listen. Now she'll hate me," Mac whispers as he looks away in sorrow.

"Does she still say she loves you?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe it?"

"Yes. But if I had only fought back," Mac laments turning away. "If I had only..."

"Mac it's not your fault," Dr. McAllister tries to reassure him. "You must believe that."

"I LET THEM!" Mac yells in anger and frustration as tears start to well again. "I work out, I'm strong, I should have been able to stop them! It's my fault. I let it happen. Stella told me not to go and I did and I let it happen! I deserve this!"

Dr. McAllister looks at Mac and then takes a deep breath. "You know Mac it is not uncommon for a male assault survivor to blame himself for the assault, believing that he in some way gave permission to the rapist or the one committing the assault to let it happen. What you are feeling is totally normal right now. And let us not forget that society's belief is that men should be able to protect themselves and if they let it happen, it is somehow their fault that they were assaulted. That's not true Mac. It's not your fault. You have to come to terms with that and understand that you are in no way to blame for what happened."

"I just feel so ashamed," Mac admits as he looks back down.

"Understandable," Dr. McAllister acknowledges. "But in reality you have nothing to be ashamed of Mac. But you are here today and this is the first real step toward recovery. The first real step toward combating the negative changes that were waiting to take hold; making use of your silence. Some that you might still experience."

"What kind of changes?" Mac inquires as he looks back up.

"Things such as loss of appetite; nausea and/or stomach aches; headaches; loss of memory and/or concentration; and/or changes in sleep patterns are things that you are yet facing. You might experience one or many at one time. Just dont panic when this does happen. Take a deep breath, stop what you are doing at the time and relax. Then when you feel you are ready to begin your task again you will be able."

"Sure," Mac sighs as he tries to swallow, finding it painful. "I just can't believe my life has changed this much. I want my old life back."

"I'm sure every survivor says that Mac. But it will come back to you more or less."

"So how many male cases have you had to deal with?" Mac wonders.

"More than you might imagine. Male assault survivors are the only patients I see now so I am very familiar with what works best to help them move on and what doesn't work at all. Trust me Mac I'm here to help you not remind you of what happened. These programs that were created were made to help people such as yourself Mac, not to hold you back in anyway. They are here to help you move back into your regular routine as soon as possible."

"Today?" Mac asks with a heavy frown.

"Starting today," Dr. McAllister assures him. "So Mac, you are the Director here. Do you want to tell me from the start?"

"It was uh...don't you want to know what happened during the attack?"

"Do you want to tell me right now?"

_'You're mine Mac. You'll always be mine. You'll never be free. NEVER.'_

"I was assaulted!" Mac finally admits. "Why the hell aren't you asking for details?"

"Okay Mac, let's talk about the assault. What led up to it?"

Mac looks at him, his mind racing with miserable anxiety as he wonders what to do. "I...well it was," he pauses as he looks around with a tight stomach. "I can't do this. I thought I could but...but I can't tell you."

"Okay then tell me about Stella, your wife."

"Now?"

"Yes, right now," Dr. McAllister instructs as he leans back, hoping that Mac will relax a little and his knuckles that have now gone white thanks to his tightly closed fists and the small beads of sweat on his forehead will lessen. "How did you meet?"

"Okay, it was..." Mac finally starts to relax as he leans back in his chair and allows his fists to loosen a little and his heart rate to come back closer to normal.

XXXXXXXX

_"Where is Mac?"_

"In a meeting," Stella tells Flack, not wanting even him to know that Mac is at the moment talking to a professional physiatrist; hoping to work past his inner demons so he'll be able to look Maurice Wicks in the eye and know that he is still in full control of himself.

_"Well I am on my way right now to see Maurice Wicks. Franklin Wicks is being taken to a separate holding facility in New Jersey. He has even more judicial and political enemies than his brother," Flack huffs. "Mac okay?"_

Stella had heard shouting coming from inside Dr. McAllister's office but knows that it would take a lot to get Mac to actually open up that much so isn't about to betray her husband's privacy.

"He's going to be just fine, Don. At least that is what I keep telling myself."

_"He's a tough guy, he'll pull through. And how are you?"_

"Worried. I mean I see progress but...I think each day will get better and better."

_"Okay well as soon as the transfer is done I'll call with the good news."_

Stella hangs up with Flack and looks back at Dr. McAllister's office door and frowns. "Oh Mac, I just pray this works. I love you so much."

XXXXXXXX

"Well Stella sounds amazing."

"She is but...well why aren't you asking about the assault?"

"Mac, rushing something like this is never..."

"I just want this to be over," Mac laments as he stands up and slowly wanders over to the window and looks outside with a blank stare.

"Mac, I know you want a quick and simple answer, but there isn't one. For each person and each situation, it's different. Some methods and therapies work for some and not for others. From the moment you walked in here I could tell you didn't want to be here."

"I I don't really but I..."

"Think I'll judge you?"

"Haven't you already?" Mac turns back and asks sharply. When Dr. McAllister returns a look of surprise, Mac's face softens. "I'm sorry I...I didn't mean to offend you."

"Mac if I was easily offended by what others think of me in this job, well I'd never leave the house each day. Trust me I have been called worse," Dr. McAllister explains with a warm tone. "I didn't want not rush things with you because the moment you walked through that door, you looked uncomfortable and when you said you wanted to be in control I figured if I forced you to spill your guts as soon as you sat down you'd be gone in about sixty seconds and we would have accomplished nothing. I have a feeling that you bottle everything up inside and keep it all to yourself; exploding at an inopportune moment?"

"Yes," Mac answers numbly.

"And if you didn't explode you'd keep it all inside and then offer your wife silence which would result in further mental and emotional harm to yourself and your wife, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about what led up to that event?"

_'I'll always be with you Mac, you'll never be free of me. Never'_

Mac leans back in his chair and realizes that in order for his mind to be free and clear of the heavy chains that Maurice Wicks was still providing he had to deal with this right now._ I can do this, _he tells himself as he takes a deep breath.

"I got a call from an old friend that I grew up with in Chicago. Went back as far as kids and...well he had a younger brother who was arrested for...well for trying to kill me but ended up in jail and was uh...well he was assaulted and then hung himself."

"Who called you?"

"His brother. He told me that..." Mac's voice dies out and then he looks away, his heart racing so fast, his eyes looking at the clock on the wall. It's felt like a small eternity when in fact only about twenty minutes have passed and Mac now wonders in what condition he'll be after the whole hour is up.

"Mac? What did he tell you?"

"He told me he thought that it was a setup and he thought that Drew was murdered and it was a cover-up. I told him that I would personally look into it. And so I went undercover."

"To flesh out a man who had already sexually assaulted and then murdered your friend's brother."

"Yes."

"Were there other options?"

"I guess but..."

"So you knew there were other options to get the man responsible for this but chose to take that upon yourself."

"That's right. But that was my mistake right?"

"Mac, I'm not here to point out your mistakes."

"My damn arrogance led to all this in the first place!"

"Why?"

"I thought that..."

"That what Mac?" Dr. McAllister gently urges.

"That I could just...just set my trap and get the guy and that would be it."

"Instead what happened?"

"I...I was...I can't do this."

"What happened Mac?"

"I was trapped instead!" Mac snaps in frustration. "He was on to me right from the start. Maybe not my cover but...but he said things and he uh...he did things that...that no man should ever hear or experience."

"Were those things that were said and done by this other man in addition to the major event itself?"

"They were."

"Want to tell me about them?"

"I was...well there were two and they uh...I was in the library and was trapped and they...they," Mac's voice breaks as he looks down at his fingers.

"What did they do Mac?"

"They had my hands cuffed behind my back and...they touched...oh god they uh..." his voice dies out once more.

"What did they do Mac?"

"They touched me."

"Did you tell them to stop?"

"I did at first. But then I couldn't..."

"And then?" Dr. McAllister continues. "Why were you unable to tell them to stop Mac?"

"I was gagged," Mac offers in a tormented whisper, his fingers tightly clenched together and his eyes wanting to water.

"Then what Mac? Was that it?"

"For that day. Then I was rescued but...but the next day was worse and I was thrown into solitary. It was dark and I was handcuffed and they just continued to taunt me."

"And were you alone?"

"In there yes. But after I was taken out of solitary the second time I was...well I was taken to a room where..."

"Where what Mac?"

"Where I was attacked."

"Tell me about it Mac. What happened? Was there just one man?"

"There were three. I u...I was outnumbered."

"Were you able to fight back or were you still handcuffed?"

"I was still handcuffed. I did fight back...well I tried but..."

"But what?"

"It was no use," Mac's voice falters as his heart races, his mind flashing images of the final attack just before he was rescued.

"Why? Why was it no use?"

"Three of them...one of me. I tried to fight back but I wasn't able. Then I was...well I was...I mean I was...oh god I can't do this."

"Then what happened Mac?"

"I can't."

"Yes you can. What happened next Mac?"

"I think you know."

"I need to hear you say it."

"Why? Why the hell do you _need _to hear me say it?" Mac demands in anger. "You get off on hearing how a guy was tied up and gagged and then beaten and then threatened to be raped? His clothes cut off and his body about to be used as...as some man's sick sexual perverse pleasure? His gential organs touched in a way a man should never be touched?" Mac's voice rises as he stands up from his chair, almost knocking it backward. "Is that why you need to hear me say it? IS IT?"

"No Mac, that's not why," Dr. McAllister starts as he slowly stands up from his chair. "I needed to hear you say it out loud so that _you_ could hear your own voice and acknowledge the fact that _you_ were unable to stop the threats just as I'm sure you were unable to stop the act itself. From what I heard, nothing was your fault. You are not to blame for anything."

Mac looks at him in anguish, his heart beating so fast he was sure he was about to pass out at any minute.

"The sooner you acknowledge the fact that you had no control over either situation; or whatever else you faced before the major attack itself, the sooner you'll be able to look those demons head on, confront them and take back your life. The sooner you realize that they had the control over that situation the sooner you can say that you do now. That you won't allow them to keep controlling you becuase you won."

"But I went in there of my own free will."

"Into the act?"

"No."

"Then how are you to blame for what they did?"

"I just...I should have been able to stop him."

"Who?"

"The man who...the man I knew was...ah damn it! I knew what he was and why I was going but..."

"But what?"

"But I didn't expect the other man and...and I thought I had it all worked out. But then they saw me in the shower and then in the library and...I can't do this."

"Just a bit more Mac. You've come so far. Please just a bit more. What did they say to you Mac?"

"Said I would...that I wanted it and that...it was my fault and they were going to have fun and..."

"And what Mac?"

"They wanted to..."

"To what Mac?"

"To have sex with me!" Mac shouts as he pushes himself up and heads for the door, his eyes wet and his fists tightly curled. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes," Dr. McAllister states as his hand rests on Mac and won't allow him to open the door. "Why does that admission make you angry Mac?"

Mac looks at Dr. McAllister, his brain already knowing the answer but his lips unable to offer the answer he knows the doctor wants to hear. But Dr. McAllister keeps pressing.

"Why does that bother you so much Mac? Knowing that not just one man, the man you went to seek out, but two men wanted to have sex with you? To assault you?"

"Get the hell out of my way!" Mac growls as he tries to pull the door open.

"Why Mac? Tell me why it makes you so angry?"

"Because I was afraid...god I was afraid." Mac admits in torment. "I have never been afraid in my life..."

"But you have never been subdued before a man who wanted to have sex with you either right? Forcible sex against your will?"

"I was afraid. I was weak."

"You were human," Dr. McAllister reminds him. "You didn't do anything wrong Mac and you certainly didn't let anyone down."

"I let myself down."

"Well we are usually our own worst enemies. But you were trapped Mac and unable to stop them, you were unable to fight back."

"I let it happen."

"You were unable to stop it."

"I SHOULD HAVE! Oh damn I should have been able to stop them."

"But you couldn't Mac and you are not to blame for that."

"Yes I am."

"Why?"

"Because I knew and I went in there thinking nothing would happen to me but it did and I couldn't stop him! Or them!" Mac states in anger. But as soon as he finally acknowledges the truth from his own lips, he finally feels some mental relief starting to come over him. "I couldn't stop any of them," he whispers as he looks away. "I couldn't stop him," he adds, his eyes wet, his fingers quickly brushing away a stray tear.

"And has anyone ever made such a vile threat toward you and then actually come close to almost completing the threat?"

"No," Mac resigns as he turns around and sags back against the door, his heart starting to ache and his stomach wanting to offer his breakfast.

"Ever had a man look at you with sexual pleasure on his mind?"

"No. Never had a man...not to me. It's just not...not normal."

"We don't live in normal times Mac and those lifestyles do exist; those thoughts exist and those kinds of people exist."

"I know," Mac huffs as his eyes look up from the floor and stare aimlessly into the room before him. "I always thought that...I mean I knew the risk but told myself that I would never...that I'd never have to experience something that awful...that terrible...not me...never me. I told myself it would never happen to me."

"No one in your situation ever does Mac. But you said you told him no?"

"On many occasions. He uh...he didn't care. Said I liked it rough and...and I just can't get him out of my head."

"What else did he say Mac?"

"That he would always be with me and that..."

"And what else Mac?"

"That he'd always be in my head, when I'm alone; during the day or at night and..."

"And when you are trying to have sexual relations with your wife?"

"I can't...why? Why the hell didn't he just walk away when I said no the first time?"

"I'm sure he didn't care Mac; he wanted you for his own perverse pleasure and no matter what you would have said would have worked. But in the end would it have mattered."

"It would have to me!"

"So whatever reason he would have told you, you would have been able to just accept blind faith without asking for a better explanation or trying to reason his explanation and come up with a better one of your own? No matter what reason he would have given for wanting you that way; looking at you that way; touching you that way would have sufficed for you?"

"No," Mac painfully admits.

"That's right Mac. No matter what he would have said to; you it never would have satisfied in your mind the reason for his actions. Your mind would try to justify and push back and you wouldn't accept it. Why? Becuase you are not like him. And then you would be caught in an endless back and forth game; a stalemate with no winners, only two losers."

"I want him out of my head. When I'm alone with Stella I...I can't perform like I did before and...I can't seem to get his voice out of my head."

"Dr. Adams told me you only booked one session?"

"I want this fixed!" Mac sighs as he looks sideways at Dr. McAllister with a frown. "How the hell do I get him out of my head? Right now!"

"Do you like music Mac?"

"Pardon? I don't see..."

"Simple question. Do you like music?"

"I do. I play, bass guitar."

"Dr. Adams said you sustained quite the beating. Has that hampered you in sexual activities?"

"Meaning?"

"Are you physically able to participate in sex? Do you get an erection Mac? Does your body respond to her sexual stimuli?"

"Yes," Mac replies sheepishly. "Well I try but..."

"Did you try last night?"

"Look Dr. McAllister..."

"Brent please."

"I don't think that..."

"Did you try to have sex last night?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Trust me not for my own benefit. I just want to help. If it makes you feel better look at the picture of me and my wife; knowing that I am asking this for your benefit and not mine. I'm not _getting off on any of _this, and I want you to know that. Now did you try to have sex last night?"

"Yes and I heard his voice as I did the night before and I yelled at Stella and locked myself in the damn bathroom. You don't understand...can never understand, you don't..." Mac's voice trails off as he turns to leave.

"Don't understand that you feel less in your mind, wondering if your wife is going to be turned off by the fact that another man touched you were no man should touch a man uninvited? Don't understand that she can't really know what it's like to have another man subdue you and then look at you in a hungry way just before he offers you the ultimate humiliation? Don't understand that you now think that you wear your supposed indifference on the outside like a mask for everyone to look at and laugh? That one night your adoring wife will see that mask and walk off into the sunset with a man you consider whole?"

Mac looks at Dr. McAllister in surprise and gently shrugs.

"Oh you'd be very surprised at what I can sympathize with Mac. There is a reason Ben sent you to me. I have been there and I know exactly what you are going through."

"You were..."

"Raped Mac, although I really do hate that word. Mind you sexually assaulted isn't much better. And while you were luckily spared the complete horror, I wasn't so lucky. So I know what it's like to come before your wife and fail to perform sexually when you never had trouble in the past. I know what it's like to look in the mirror and see another man looking back at you. I know what it's like to tell yourself you are different and changed and all for the worst. To think every whispered word, muffled laugh and second glance is those looking because they are judging. But much like you Mac, I am a survivor and if I didn't survive I wouldn't be able to actually tell you know that I know what you are going through and mean it. If I didn't survive I wouldn't be able to say yeah it sucks right now but trust me it will get better and know that it will. If I didn't survive I wouldn't be able to tell you that your wife and friends love you and those that always did always will; and those that don't, never have. If I didn't survive Mac, I wouldn't be able to tell you that you have done an amazing job today and it can only get better from here on in."

Mac looks at Dr. McAllister and just shakes his head. "What I said earlier..." he starts only to have him gently squeeze his forearm. "I didn't mean it, I'm sorry."

"I don't advertise my experiences Mac, there is no way you could have known; just as I didn't know what you went through until you told me. As I said before, I'm not easily offended. But I told you because I wanted you to understand you are not alone and you seem like someone that unless they are given the cold hard facts; the evidence as it were, won't believe it's true."

"I'm sorry I made you..."

"You needed it right Mac? Besides I doubt you'll be advertising any of this any time soon."

"No. But did the uh...did the nightmares ever stop?"

"The nightmares, the voices, the invisible images...all of it Mac; it all stopped. It didn't stop right away and it wasn't an easy battle; and even now, some days will haunt me more than others. But it was a battle I knew I had to fight and I did and with the help of my wife and Ben, I won. You are not without hope. Your battle is not unwinnable."

"And Stella? Did your wife have to suffer in the meantime as I know Stella is with me?"

"She's not suffering Mac, she's learning as you are to adapt to a new situation and some new experiences in your mind to help others as I am helping you. If the situation were reversed..."

"I know I would want to support her as much as possible and I would never leave her or stop loving her."

"Just like me and Wendy. But it sounds like you've had that discussion already."

"We did."

"And what else did you discuss Mac? Have you told her all the things you've told me?"

"Not all of it. Nothing about the second stay in solitary or the act itself."

"And how do you feel right now?"

"What?"

"How do you feel?"

"Tired."

"I mean mentally."

"Actually somewhat at peace," Mac finally confesses.

"And they say confession is good for the soul," Dr. McAllister quips, forcing Mac's face to slightly soften, his fingers brushing away a fresh tear. "You just got past the biggest hurdle Mac; the rest should be easier now."

"Okay."

"Our time is almost up Mac, but try this tonight. When you are alone with Stella, and regardless of how you are feeling if she wants to initiate a sexual union, put on some music, anything that will keep your mind occupied. Tell her right up front that you are going to concentrate on the music any time _his _voice or face pops into your head. This way she won't think you've zoned out on her or the act itself."

"Makes sense," Mac states with a sigh. "So is that it?"

"For today," Dr. McAllister smiles.

"T-today?" Mac gasps.

"Yes today. Do you want to come back?"

"I uh...I don't know."

"What did you acknowledge today Mac?"

"What? You want me to go over all that again?"

"Please Mac, just one last question. What did you learn about yourself today?"

"That it wasn't my fault and that I wasn't able to stop them," Mac resigns as he looks away in agitation. "That I am not to blame."

"But you can stop them now, right Mac? You can stop the voices, you can stop the inner anger and hostility and you can tell yourself that you are in full control once again. Do you believe you are."

"I...I do."

"You are in control Mac."

"Sounds easy."

"It won't be but if you ever need to talk, my door is always open to you and I do hope I'll see you again. But this is your fight and you are in control. If you want this one session then so be it; if you want more, you have my card. I know you feel like you've made a breakthrough and I hope you'll go home tonight and make love to your wife; try the music suggestion and start the recovery process for your mind and soul. Beat those bastards at their own game," Dr. McAllister finishes with a smile.

"I can try," Mac states with a heavy sigh as he leans back in his chair.

"And your attacker. Will you ever have to see him again? Like at trial or something?"

"No," Mac answers. "It was very political so just a judge and two lawyers. As far as I'm concerned Maurice Wicks is out of my life for good."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so I know every discussion with a survivor is different and I am not a man, only tried to get into their heads with this. So if you think i'm way off in left field and want to flame why? I just said I tried! For the rest I hope it sounded a little plausibe and a lot sensitive and it made sense and you can see it helping Mac. And I know this chapter focused mainly on Mac but I didn't want to rush the discussion with Dr. McAllister as I felt it would be key to Mac's recovery. I know this chapter was long and hope it wasn't too long and sorry in advance if it was. Hope you want to see the rest and how this all wraps up in a few chappies. Thanks everyone!

**PS: **Yes I had planned to extend this story a lot longer than just a few more chapters but with the recent news the muse is struggling with so much angst and I just want to end before I let you all down. So thanks again!


	14. Fight for the Future

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 14 - Fight for the Future **

**A/N:** Well I feel like I let some of you down a bit in the last chapter and for that I am sorry. For those that have left, if it was too much then I do apologize, I am going to wrap this up in two chapters so to the rest please bear with me and thank you. And hope this chapter isn't too long. eeks!

* * *

"So do you need a few minutes just to relax before you go out there?"

"I can?" Mac asks in surprise.

"I have to tend to a few _professional _things so take your time," Dr. McAllister finishes with a warm smile.

"Thank you," Mac mentions in a low tone, his heart rate starting to calm a little.

"What is it?" Dr. McAllister inquires as he looks at Mac with a wondering glance. "You don't believe this session will help?"

"I want to but..."

"Then tell yourself it'll help even just a little and go with that. For each person it's different Mac. Some people don't exhibit all the after effects of PTSD but some do; you might experience some of a few things and none of others. That is why I am not sending you away with a guarantee that after this session everything is gone just like that. But I do guarantee that now that you know that someone other than yourself is sharing your pain you will start to feel better. But I do hope this isn't the last time you come here."

"I'll uh...think about it."

"You going back to work right now?"

"It'll help keep my mind occupied right?"

"Sometimes, but sometimes it can also frustrate you more. You might tell yourself that you should be able to just step back into the identical routine you were in before but then get very frustrated when you are unable; perhaps getting mad at yourself or others."

"I already have. In fact snapping at my team was part of me...well part of me coming here."

"What was the trigger?"

"A new case where a man was sexually assaulted and then murdered. So I guess you can say I told you so."

"Pardon?" Dr. McAllister arches his brows.

"Well I should have come to see you sooner and perhaps it wouldn't have happened right?" Mac asks with a heavy sigh.

"Who's to say it still won't happen in the future?"

"What?"

"Well in your line of work you'll face, I'm sure cases like that again and you are only human Mac and that kind of topic would be hard for anyone to handle; especially a man who has survived such an ordeal. Trust me from personal experience I know. And _I told you so _is something you'll never hear from me, except when things go right," Dr. McAllister replies kindly.

"I went back and apologized."

"Did you tell them the real reason?"

"Do I have to?"

"No, something like that is very private and if they don't know then that is your discretion."

"Right, okay thanks," Mac states with some agitation; his mind now wondering if he'll actually be able to walk out of the room and retain all that he has taken in.

"Take your time Mac," Dr. McAllister acknowledges after a few minutes of silence. He writes Mac another appointment card with an open time slot and then hands it to Mac before he heads to another small desk and lets Mac just sit and relax.

Mac looks down at his wedding band and feels his anxiety starting to grow. Dr. McAllister was right in that he did feel better after he opened up but now wonders if he'll start to curse himself for not having the mental courage inside to open up as much to his wife. He finally pushes himself up out of the chair and heads for the door, looking back at Dr. McAllister who gives him the thumbs up and offers him a good luck before Mac opens the door and looks at Stella with a slight frown.

"Hey," Stella greets him with a soft tone as she offers her hand, wrapping her fingers around his cool skin and feeling her lips automatically wince as they collide with his tense flesh.

"Ready to go?" Mac asks in haste.

"Come with me," Stella leads them down the hall and into a quiet waiting area, locking door for added privacy. She slowly eases herself down onto the soft padded bench beside her husband and gently touches his flushed face.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"I...Stella I feel bad."

"No Mac it was supposed to..." Stella starts only to have Mac lean in and brush her cheek with his lips before pulling back and looking at her with a tormented gaze.

"I should have told you the stuff I told him. I should have told you right from the start all that I experienced."

"Mac, when you are ready you _will_ tell me everything."

"Brent said that also. It's just that..."

"Are you glad you told him?"

"Actually yes," Mac sighs as he leans back against the wall, his eyes fixed ahead. "He didn't know me and I guess that made it easier."

"Sounded heated at times."

"It was and I said things in the heat of the moment that I shouldn't have," Mac huffs as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and Stella's fingers tenderly rubbing his back. "But he was very understanding and didn't uh...I'm glad I went."

"Me too," Stella leans forward, her shoulders even with his. She leans in and kisses him on the cheek, her face lingering near his. "I didn't want not lose you Mac."

"You never would have Stella," Mac assures her as his right hand interlaces with his left.

"Maybe not in body but I was worried about losing you in other ways."

"Such as last night?" Mac looks at her in sorrow.

"I'm not keeping score Mac," Stella kisses him on the cheek once more. "I love you too much for that."

"I got help today for us Stella. I love you too much to allow myself to ever hurt you again like I did last night."

"Mac..." Stella starts only to have his finally warm finger gently press her lips before he leans in and kisses her mouth for a few seconds and then pulls back; both of them flooded with much needed warmth.

"I love you Stella. I know it's not going to be easy every day but..."

"But as long as we face everything together we will be stronger than we were before."

"Right."

"You want to go back to work today?"

"You had something else in mind?" Mac arches his brows in wonder.

"Actually yes," Stella whispers as she gently nuzzles his ear with her lips. "But I know we have to get back to work."

"Later?"

"Mac..."

"Stella, I have something I can try. Please?"

"When have I ever said no to you?"

Mac gives her a nod before both of them stand up and head for the door, unlocking it and then slowly walking hand and toward the elevator; Mac telling Stella a few details about what he told Dr. McAllister without going into all the details due to the public setting. Mostly about why he raised his voice and how he would have to keep himself in check around the team.

Just as they reach the Avalanche Mac's phone rings. "Don what is it?"

_"A slight delay in Wicks transfer," Flack tells him with a heavy sigh. "Seems like they want to process Franklin first and they'll take Maurice later tonight or first thing tomorrow. I'll keep you posted."_

"Right thanks and Don..."

_"Yeah?"_

"Thanks for the help, you know with the rescue and all."

_"Mac, I feel like I failed you," Flack offers in a soft tone. "I'm sorry I haven't had time to come by personally but...well maybe I have been avoiding you."_

"What? Why?" Mac asks as Stella starts up the crossover and heads for the lab.

_"It was me who um...well agreed and...Mac I'm sorry. Stella found out about Drew and Larry and the others while you were in...in there. And when your feed went out and..."_

"What do you mean it went out? When?"

_"The first time you went were thrown into solitary your feed receptacle was kinda damaged, but the second time in solitary it cut out and then came to when you were..."_

"You missed everything?"

_"No we got what we needed, the threats and taunts, Wicks and George's and the other guard's identity and you um...yeah we got enough Mac, we only missed the part in solitary."_

"It's over now," Mac huffs as he looks out the window with a heavy frown.

_'Remember Mac,' _Dr. McAllister's voice starts to sound in his mind. _'If you run away from a tense conversation that involves you, you'll be running all your life.'_

_"Mac?"_

"I'll trust you saw what you needed on that footage and I don't need to review it."

_"Okay, if you need anything let me know but I'm heading over to Riker's right now."_

Stella watches Mac hang up and then sees his knuckles tense and knows the news from Don must have been bad.

"Mac?"

"Don just said that the feed cut out when I was in solitary the second time."

"I was with him in Sinclair's office when it came back on and...but he got what we needed right?"

"He said so," Mac replies with a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Mac?"

"Stella, I'm going to trust Don in this matter and let him take care of it."

Stella looks at Mac in surprise before turning back to concentrate on the road.

"What?"

"Just happy to hear that," Stella mentions softly.

"Why didn't you tell me that you found out about Drew and Larry and the others?"

"You mean that they were sexually assaulted and then murdered?"

"Yes," Mac answers.

"I know you and I know how hard you are on yourself. I mean last night you said you deserved what you got because it was your decision. How could I bring up Drew and not think that you wouldn't have one more thing to torment yourself over? It wasn't your fault about Drew and it wasn't your fault about..well any of this."

"I guess I should call Jimmy and tell him we got the guy who murdered Drew."

"Mac, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. You were just so..."

"So determined to allow myself to self destruct?"

"I would never allow you to do that to yourself Mac," Stella tells him firmly.

"I guess I've said I told you so to myself enough for both of us."

Stella offers Mac a weak frown but no further words, only takes his hand and gives is a squeeze before she turns back to the road. "As I said before Mac, you'll tell me everything when you are ready. But me knowing some of the details will also make it easier for me to not only help and understand you but also to prepare my own mind and heart for all that you had to endure and those other men as well. As much as I hated Drew at the time for what he did to me and to you; his fate was something I would never wish on any human. Are you going to be okay? I hate to ask because I sound...motherly I guess."

"Motherly?"

"Wifely?" Stella chuckles, instantly lightening the mood and forcing Mac's face to finally relax.

"Like the sound of both of those words."

"What?" Stella asks with a growing smile. "Mac?"

"No big deal Stella."

"Right," she smiles as they reach the lab. They both head into the elevator, talking a bit more about the delay in Wicks transfer and how both will be glad when he's finally out if striking distance.

"Well at least Flack has managed to get his phone privileges revoked right?"

"For now."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning when he's well...where he is, he'll have phone privileges and...right I'll deal with that when it comes," Mac resigns as the elevator doors open and they head for his office. Mac dumps his coat and the heads for the evidence room; Stella joining them about ten minutes later.

However, when both Danny and Adam once again start to discuss the particulars of their latest case, a man that was assaulted and then murdered, she notices Mac's body tense up and his words tight and sharp. But she watches him take a deep breath and then carry on as he did before he walked into the room.

_Thank you Dr. McAllister, _Stella's mind offers as she observes Mac starting to get back into the swing of his old CSI self, picking up an item that was used to subdue the victim, probably testing his own emotional metal to see if he could pass this small test that was presented. He looks at her and she gently shrugs.

"I got this Stella," Mac states in a low tone. And although she notices that his posture is still on edge, his fingers aren't shaking as they were the day before and his brow isn't damp as she had worried. Finally she starts to get busy with her own piece of evidence and by the time they are finished it's past lunch and Mac has left the room.

Finally feeling the need to take a break from all the voices dancing around in his head from examining the piece of evidence, Mac heads into his office and slumps down in his chair; rubbing his face with his hands before slowly opening them and spying the sealed envelope on his desk with his name on it.

_'Evidence against Maurice and Franklin Wicks.'_

"Oh damn," Mac gently curses as closes his eyes for a second. He pulls out the first CD and then puts it into the drive, his heart rate starting to rise. The CD contains the forbidden images from the private computer of Franklin Wicks. He reads the directory label and feels his stomach starting to tighten when he sees the folder labeled 'MT'. He was the one that picked the name Mark Travers so has once again only himself to blame for the initial association being so close to his own Mac Taylor (MT).

He opens up the directory and nearly throws up whatever liquidy substance is now churning in his stomach as his eyes gaze upon a picture of himself when he was first taken into lockup and forced to strip.

"Oh god," he curses as he spies a picture of himself in the shower, fully naked. He quickly closes the file, his fingers frantically reaching for the CD and his lips offering an angry curse when he's unable.

"Damn it open!" Mac growls as he finally emits a soft gasp as Stella's fingers touch his arm.

"What is it?"

"The um...it was...nothing, it was nothing," Mac lies as he manages to get the CD out of the drive, holding it firmly in his fingers; ready to destroy it.

"I know you want to damage it Mac, but it is evidence," Stella gently reminds him as she carefully pries it from his fingers and shoves it back into the folder. "Pictures of you?" She inquires to which she only gets a head nod in return. "I can examine them if you'd like."

"No!" Mac states in haste as he snatches the envelope from her fingers and slams it down on the right side of his body, turning away. "Sorry."

Stella's hands rest on each shoulder, giving them a firm squeeze and a tender massage. "You'd prefer Don?"

"I'd prefer no one. But I feel like I have to do this."

"Mac you don't need to relive all that horror by yourself?"

"Stella you can't see them."

"Talk to me Mac."

"I can't...not here."

"No one can hear us Mac," Stella states as she closes his door and then hurries back to his side. "Please? Lets deal with this right now Mac; don't allow it to fester."

"When I was...it was the second night and I had to uh...they made me take a shower and they were watching and they took pictures," Mac finally admits in torment. "There are pictures of me on there Stella. Naked! Damn it they took pictures!"

"I know what it's like to have your privacy violated Mac. Remember what I found online about me?" Stella reminds him; her mind thinking back to when she saw herself on line after Frankie had made that awful footage of them making love.

"Oh Stella I'm sorry for sounding insensitive."

"Don't be Mac. Just talk to me."

"I hate this," Mac growls as he slams his fist down on the table before taking a deep breath and then leaning his head back on the chair and looking up at her with a weak frown. "But no I don't want to run away."

"Wasn't going to let you," Stella tells him as her hand rests on his. "Now I have seen you naked and if you want we can look at them together?"

"We don't have to look at them Stella."

"If you don't know you are either **A** going to sneak back in here on your own and then spend the whole night having panic attacks worse than the one you were going to have. Or **B** you won't see them and then spend the rest of the day beating yourself up for not having the courage to do so."

"Damn, it's sometimes unnerving how well you know me," Mac lightly grimaces.

"Wicks has already seen these Mac, you seeing them you can at least have a come back to whatever taunts he throws your way," Stella reminds him. "But you know that each legal side has already seen these right? You know this was already used as evidence against Franklin Wicks? Tying the dead men in those pictures to..."

"I know," Mac shakes his head, mostly at himself. "Part of me wants to just to see the rest of what they saw and part of me doesn't want to see so that I can just...well ignore the feeling that knowledge will give me."

"How about scan them in thumbnail view and then you can tell yourself you know which situation this is from but you don't actually have to..."

"See the look of horror or utter ignorance on my face?"

"It's your call Mac."

"I have to deal with this and know that I can...I just have to," Mac insists.

"Okay when we'll do it together. But anytime you want to stop, you just press stop and we'll call it a day okay?"

"Okay," Mac agrees with a nod. Inside his mind he knows he doesnt need to see the photo's; that a state lawyer has already reviewed them and put together the evidence that linked the pictures to the dead men in the case against Franklin Wicks. However, he tells himself that since he heard about the pictures that were absconded from Wicks computer, he had to know what they had on him; mostly for his own peace of mind.

Mac slowly puts the CD back into the slot and then holds his breath, once again feeling his heart rating starting to sky rocket as the images come to life on the screen before them. He feels Stella's fingers curl into his and instantly his anxiety starts to subside. Mac's eyes look at the thumbnails and feels his mind relax a little as he realizes he doesn't have to see all the pictures to know where he was and what was happening.

"How did they get these?" Mac grumbles as he realizes the camera angle in the library, solitary, his cell and the shower.

"Was that..."

"Yeah they watched me when I was sleeping," Mac winces as he looks away. "I don't need to see the rest."

Stella's eyes however, are still fixed on the still images of Mac being tied to the ceiling in the last attack before he was pulled for good.

"Stella?"

"Just...yeah you're right," she whispers as she pulls the CD out. "We don't need to see those anymore."

"I'm sorry Stella."

"The bastard that did that to you should be sorry," she laments as she turns to him with watery eyes, her fingers still tightly clutching his. "You want to go home?"

"I think I do," Mac replies with a look of uncertainty. "I think we'll both breathe easier tomorrow when Wicks is finally out of the area. And with the list of charges against him, he'll get either life or death."

"You know I have never wanted another human being to die as much as I want Maurice Wicks to be dead."

"I agree."

XXXXXXXX

"You like babysitting me Detective Flack?"

"What's the matter Wicks? You still pissed because I had your communication privileges revoked?"

"Whatever," Wicks shrugs, not telling the man before him that he was already supplied with a clean phone; a phone however, full of pictures of the one man he so desperately wants revenge on.

"Well get used to it, because where you are going, friends are going to be few and far between."

"I make friends easily Flack. How is Detective Taylor? He sleeping better yet?"

"Man it must just burn your ass that he won in the end."

"Game isn't over Flack."

"You keep saying that Wicks," Flack smirks. "We are just delayed while they deal with your no good brother."

"Yeah Frank liked the pictures of Mac also. He's very photogenic; especially naked. You seen those pictures yet?"

"Funny thing about me _Maurice,_" Flack looks at him with an angry scowl. "Unlike the other guards around there; I am not in the least bit affected by your words."

"Did Mac tell you he got off on it just as much as me?"

"We're done here. See you in the morning."

"Sleep well Detective Flack, you know I will," Wicks calls out to him as he watches Flack leave the small holding cell. Wicks rolls over onto his side, his back to the door and pulls out the small phone, pulling up a picture of Mac and glaring at it with narrowed eyes.

"You might have think you won this round, but in the end I will have destroyed you before I disappear forever. Then I will have had the last laugh."

XXXXXXXX

"I got that Mac," Stella mentions as Mac heads into the kitchen to help with dinner.

"I'm not an invalid Stella," Mac quickly corrects her as he takes the item and then continues about his task. "I do know how to cook _a few _things."

"Mmm I'll bet you do," Stella smiles as her arm wraps around his waist and holds him close.

"Thank you," Mac plants a kiss on her cheek.

"For what?" Stella looks at him in wonder.

"I know it wasn't easy for you to see those pictures also but I couldn't have done it without you at my side. When I had finished talking to Dr. McAllister this morning, I thought I'd be done for for the day, at least mentally. But he had told me that if I run away from every problem I face with regards to...well with what I experienced that I would be afraid all my life. And I'm done being afraid of Maurice Wicks."

"Together we'll get him out of your head for good."

"Like the sound of that," he kisses her cheek once more. "Can I help with the meat?"

"Like the sound of that," Stella teases as she kisses him on the mouth and then both head back to the stove to continue. Both of them work together to make dinner and then spend their dinner time conversation talking about where they'd like to spend a weekend away; no work, no cell phones or pagers and no talk or thoughts of Maurice Wicks or what Mac had to endure.

"I'll call Jimmy in the morning," Mac tells Stella as they head into their bedroom sometime later.

"Has he called earlier?"

"I got a message yesterday but...just couldn't talk to him. Heck I had just yelled at Danny and figured that I probably would have said worse to Jimmy and it wasn't his fault. It was mine."

"No Mac it wasn't. It was Maurice Wicks fault Mac and his alone," Stella reminds him as she slowly closes the bedroom door and looks at her husband with a strained smile. "Are you tired?"

"No. I want to try Stella. Damn it, I don't even know why I have to even say that or think that about sex. It should come natu..." Mac starts only to have Stella walk up to him while he was still talking, wrap her arms around his neck and then kiss him before he can finish.

Mac's arms automatically wrap around her waist as her lips continue to hungrily devour his.

"Mac," Stella moans as his fingers slowly slide down her back, resting just above her ass, her body held tightly against his. His fingers start to quickly remove her sweater, her fingers already working to tug off his shirt, leaving his chest bare for her to devour with her warm mouth.

_'Does your wife know about us Mac?'_

Mac's lips emit a soft curse as he slowly pulls back with a frown. He gives his head a shake, as if willing the tormenting images to fade. "Can't do this..."

"Mac?"

"Stella I..."

"No Mac, it's okay. We'll work through this. Please don't leave."

"I'm not. I...hold on a sec," Mac remembers Dr. McAllister's words from earlier as he heads over to the small CD player they have in their bedroom and presses play; a CD of sexy music already in the small player waiting to be used.

"Dr. McAllister told me that whenever I hear Wicks voice in my head that I was to put on some music and then concentrate on that. I just didn't want you to think I was zoning out on you."

"You are here with me Mac and if the music forces _him _out of your mind, then I say go for it. Besides these songs are from our wedding night; maybe they'll help you focus on those happy events; and I will do the same."

"That is what I am hoping for," Mac smiles as he leans in closer once more, his body already on it's way to offering her a firm erection of pleasure.

"So then either way I win," Stella states triumphantly. "Come here handsome," she whispers as she slowly leans back on the bed and offers him an eyeful of her tempting body.

"I have missed you so much," Mac states with a slight frown as he eases himself down beside her, nearly on top but not quite. His fingers start to touch the small pieces of satin around her breasts, his fingers slowly dipping beneath the slippery fabric and his mind revealing in delight as he feels the pert nub of her breast. "God I missed you," he tells her again as his body lowers itself a bit further, his erection now painfully straining at the dark fabric of his dress pants. One hand continues to clasp her breast while the other tries to fumble with the zipper of her pants, seeking an in for a much needed sexual union.

Stella's body arches into his with delight. He didn't have to outright start the heated romp but as long as he was willing to try his best and give himself to her as much as he could, she would take delight in the fact that Wicks wouldn't win this round either. A few more times like this and she knows her husband will be back to his amorous self in no time.

Mac feels Stella's hands grasping at the waistband of his dress pants, tugging them down as her tongue continues to tease his; pushing in and out between the folds of his teeth and forcing his body to harden further; his erection already telling her his body is more than ready for hers. Wicks face tries to push its way into his thoughts; wanting to offer tormented words that'll force Mac's mind to be broken and the union to end before it begins.

Mac, however doesn't give in; he simply focuses his gaze on Stella's perfect face and forces his mind to listen to the words of the song.

"Are you okay?" Stella asks as she finally frees his erect member and allows herself to be moved into position for the sexual union.

"I...I am," he slightly frowns, only to have Stella kiss his forehead and then smile.

"I'm ready Mac," she tells him; her lips offering a slight gasp when he finally makes penetration, pushing deep down into her warm sheath. Her hands move from his sides to his back; her body slowly moving in tandem with his. His movements at first are mechanical; his posture a bit stiff and uncertain.

"Just relax Mac," she soothes as her fingers start to tenderly massage his tense back. "How are your ribs?"

"They'll hold," he remarks with a slight smile. "How are yours?" He retorts, forcing her lips to curl upward even further.

"They are perfect thanks to you."

"You are perfect."

"You are pretty amazing yourself Mac," Stella praises.

But with those few words, his mind once again wants to fill with doubt; his heart racing that maybe she'll feel that he feels how stiff and awkward his actions are right now.

"But I..." Mac starts only to be silenced by a firm kiss.

"Perfect Mac. Don't argue with me," Stella teases as she pulls him in for one more heated kiss.

Mac finally feels his body starting to loosen a little his thrusting down into her a little more natural and his anxiety starting to fade. His brow still furrows a little as his ribs knit each time he pulls upward and then pushes back down; his breathing a bit labored. His mind panting a bit extra but his heart urging him to keep going.

His fingers move from her sides up to her face, brushing aside stray curls that had stuck to her face thanks so some beads of sweat they had produced together. His lips start to devour hers once more his body now straining a bit as they move together with greater momentum.

"That feels amazing," Stella praises, once again setting Mac's mind at ease and trying to push aside his doubts as to the feeling of mechanicalness in his actions. The last thing he wants Stella thinking he was doing this just to please her and her alone.

"Stella..."

"Mac now..." she lightly begs as they near climax together, a bit faster and a little more tense than expected.

"I..."

"Mac...yes...Mac...now!"

"Stella!" Mac pants again as he realizes they have reached the end, offers one last gasp followed by the last powerful thrust into her before he gently slumps down on top of her glistening body; heart racing.

Stella's fingers gently push aside some sweaty strands from his flushed face, her hands lightly massaging his tense scalp. But when Mac makes a move to pull himself out of her right away, Stella stops his actions; prompting him to look at her in wonder.

"We always linger like this for a while. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Mac frowns as he looks at her with a weak smirk.

"What it is?"

"Was I..."

"You did everything right Mac, just like always."

"Hate asking or doubting myself," he gently curses as he slowly pulls himself out but spoons up beside her. Stella props herself up on her elbow and looks down at Mac, her fingers making small swirly patters on his sweaty chest as his fingers gently massage one of the tips of her breast. She leans down and plants a warm kiss on the scar just above his heart.

"It'll pass Mac. You won tonight, can't you see that?"

"All I see is a man who had trouble performing sexually, who needed help," he laments in misery.

"But it worked right?"

"It did," Mac resigns with heavy sigh.

"It was your idea Mac and it worked perfectly. Besides, you know I didn't mind," she tells him as she strokes his rough cheek. She leans down and kisses his salty lips once more. "I love you Mac Taylor, never forget that."

But before she can pull away, his hand lingers on the back of her head, his fingers teasing damp curls as he lowers her mouth to his once more.

"I love you more than I can tell you right now. Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Thought never crossed my mind; to give up on you would be to give up on us. And giving up on us was never an option."

"I won't be this way forever."

"See that is where you are wrong Mac."

"What?"

"Because you already are perfect and that won't ever change," she whispers and his face completely softens, his eyes almost wanting to mist.

"Come here," he entreats as he gathers up the blankets around them, their clothes on the floor in a heap by the bed; the two of them now wrapped in each other's embrace. Mac's arms tighten around Stella's naked body, holding her close in his grasp; his mind trying to push past the small throbbing in his ribs and chest from their latest love-making adventure.

His fingers tenderly play with her face before trailing down to her chest, her lips emitting soft moans of delight as his actions continue to tease her tender areas.

"Feels good Mac," she tells him in truth as she gently twists her head to look at him, gazing into his warm blue eyes with a loving smile.

"I love you Stella Taylor," he whispers as he kisses her on the mouth once more. "I think that you and I should take a trip away together."

"Yeah? Where?"

"Well even just someplace close by...just someplace the two of us can forget about work for awhile; just to recharge."

"Change of heart coming from you. But I like it."

"Dr. McAllister suggested it," Mac lightly frowns; his voice holding a hint of uncertainty. "Is that okay?"

"It's not who made the suggestion Mac, it's what we choose to do about it. We have talked about it before. Did you have a place in mind?"

"Well I thought I would leave that up to my wife; the social Director of the family to make that decision. I trust her judgment."

"Mmm okay I like the sound of that," Stella whispers as she kisses him once more. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow."

Mac offers a nod before he whispers goodnight and then turns out the light; the CD already reaching the end and the room now quiet, except the sound of two steady breathing patterns. Thankful that the CD music did fill his mind with thoughts of their wedding, Mac forces his mind to hold onto those thoughts, praying it'll be the first night when he's not offered nightmares of himself being forcibly violated at Wicks hands; wanting instead to dream about making love to his wife the night was proudly wore the title Stella Taylor.

And for the most part it works; his mind only offering small snippets of his being captured by Wicks but then being able to fight his way free before he puts a bullet in him and ends his life for good. And for the first time in days, Mac's able to open his eyes the next morning with a slight smile on his face and his frame finally feeling rested.

"Sleep well?" Stella inquires as she watches her husband's sapphire orbs finally connect with hers.

"You tell me."

"Better than the old Mac Taylor," she smiles. "Should have tried the CD before."

"Filled my head with thoughts of our wedding night," Mac smiles as he reaches out and traces the outline of her perfect face with his fingers. "Hard not to sleep well with those thoughts in my head."

"I agree. You going to be okay today?"

"I think the fact that Wicks is finally being transferred away from here is cause enough for my mind to settle once and for all."

"I hope so."

They linger in bed a bit longer, talking about the weekend they'd like to take away together; each making a suggestion and then talking about it. Finally it was time to get out of bed and get another working day started. Mac heads into the bathroom and gazes at the marks on his chest; they were finally fading and didn't look as bad as the night before.

"Ugh," he comments as he reaches for his razor.

"I had another word in mind," Stella smiles as she walks up to him, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. "In fact the longer you stand there half naked the faster I am going to just force myself on you right here and now."

"And that would be a bad thing?" Mac arches his brows.

Stella's lips just curl upward at his flirty comeback, thankful that glimpses of the man she had married were finally showing through; it wouldn't be long now before he had finally come to terms with all the darkness he had faced and realize that he wasn't a victim and life hadn't changed drastically.

"You tell me," she whispers as she allows him to wrap a strong arm around her waist and pull her close, her fingers resting on his bare chest. She giggles as his rough face teases her tender skin, her body lightly struggling in his grasp. A few breathless seconds later, he releases his hold on her and lets her take her leave; closing the door so he can have his privacy.

Mac gently curses his name; wanting more than anything to act on his growing sexual urges but once again finding his eyes searching his bathroom for any peep holes; his mind showing images of himself on Franklin Wicks computer.

"Bastard," Mac curses once more before he flips his razor on and gets started into his morning ritual. He finishes his shave and then starts up the shower, telling himself that no one else is watching and he's alone and safe. His brain finally convinces his body to untense a little and he's able to finish his shower with less anxiety and then allow Stella the time she needs to get ready.

But as he heads into his bedroom to get ready, he can't help but wonder what Flack is facing as he deals with the transfer of Maurice Wicks.

XXXXXXXX

"Aww how come Detective Taylor isn't coming to _personally _escort me?" Wicks laughs as he watches Flack enter his holding cell.

"Get him ready," Flack instructs the guards.

"Taylor miss me?" Wicks smirks.

Flack just glares at him in anger, not wanting to offer anything in return; not wanting to dignify Wicks sordid stupidity in any way.

"Aww I'll bet me misses me. I'll be when I'm not there he's just begging for it. Not much fun in wackin' yourself off without the um...well the proper motivation," Wicks finishes with a broad smile. But when he sees that he's getting not even a facial reaction from Flack, he quickly stops and curses.

"All set Detective Flack."

"Let's go."

"Hope you said a prayer this morning Detective Flack," Wicks warns as he slowly shuffles past in his travelling shackles.

"Didn't need to," Flack just shakes his head. "It'll take a miracle to save your sorry ass Wicks."

"You know Detective Flack," Wicks stops and looks at him square on. "As of late I do believe in miracles."

XXXXXXXX

"Still off of coffee?" Stella inquires when she notices Mac dump the rest of the morning coffee without filling up his travel mug.

"Nerves still on edge," he huffs as he rinses out the glass pot. "Trust me I do miss it. Think music will cure that also?"

"I think you'll know tomorrow."

"Or dinner tonight," Mac replies as they head out of their apartment and into the elevator. "I feel sorry for Don, he volunteered to transport Wicks."

"Well after Wicks was given such free reign even in his holding cell I can't blame Don, but...yeah wish there was someone else he trusted; I mean other than Jessica."

Mac feels his anxiety starting to grow a little as they near the lab. Today he would try Jimmy once more and knows he also has a meeting with Sinclair; thankful his superior waited until he was ready.

They head into the elevator both of them lightly talking about the errands they needed to do after work; the elevator doors finally opening, a flushed faced Jessica racing toward them with an anxious expression.

"Jessica what is it?" Stella asks in haste.

"There's been an accident! Maurice Wicks has escaped!"

* * *

**A/N:** yeah okay so a bit more to go. Hope you all liked this and thanks.


	15. The Calm before the Storm

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 15 - The Calm before the Storm**

* * *

From the moment Mac heard that Wicks had escaped his world instantly crumbled; his heart wanted to stop and his brain flashed reminders of his haunting words.

_'I will have you before me...I will get even.'_

"What do you mean escaped? Is Don okay?"

"What the hell happened?" Mac demands, looking at Jessica with an angry frown.

"Don was injured and I'm heading back to the hospital; Sully is leading the manhunt right now," Jessica informs them.

"How did he escape?"

"Inside help, that is what Sinclair is assuming since Franklin's second transfer convoy was also attacked."

"What?" Mac asks in disbelief; his world starting to spiral around him. However he knows, now is not the time for him to lose his mental control and cave in on himself; that is what Wicks would want and he was done giving Maurice Wicks any more satisfaction at his own expense.

"What happened to him?" Stella asks in haste as they all head toward the main entrance.

"Apparently the convoy was ordered to detour, Flack was in the back so he didn't know it was a wrong turn but when he finally figured it out it was too late and...the van was attacked, there was a small explosion and thankfully Flack appeared dead and he...I just thank God he was spared," her voice dies out as she swallows back a very open and unprofessional lump of emotion.

Stella's fingers rest on her friends shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. "Call if you need anything."

They both watch Jessica hurry outside the front doors and then turn to face each other in shock and misery.

"Mac, I'm sure he'd never..." Stella starts, only to have Mac hold up his hand and stop her speech.

"I will be ready for him."

"He'd be foolish to try anything Mac, you know that."

"Don texted me a few times say he is still taunting me and that it wasn't over. This man wants to finish what he's started. He's not running, he's now hunting."

"Mac," Stella tries once more before her voice dies out and she turns away. This time it's Mac's turn to put his fingers on her shoulder and force her tormented emerald gaze back to his; his sapphire orbs softening immediately.

"I'm not going to shrink away from him, in fact I think I am more determined than ever to seek him out and put an end to this once and for all."

"You better tell me you are not going to do that," Stella argues in return; her heart aching that Wicks could get the upper hand and her beloved husband's life would really be over.

"I'm not going to cower in the corner either!" Mac snaps and then looks away. "I want this bastard put away for good Stella, I don't care what it takes!"

They both stand locked in their positions, a small heated showdown for what seems like forever, before Mac's tense posture finally loosens a little.

"I'm going to call Sully and see what he needs, but I'm assuming he'll tell us that he's got it under control and to wait and let him do his job. And he would be right," Mac's voice explains, ending with a heavy sigh.

"What do you want me to do? And don't assign me some heavily detailed case," she lightly warns, "because you know I'll just be distracted anyways until he's caught."

"We'll not cower to him, it's what he wants!" Mac growls and then tells himself to calm down, his fists tightly clenched at his sides. Stella's fingers gently wrap around his, adding warmth and allowing his anxiety to slightly subside; she had that instant power over him. "I can't give in."

"No one expects you to, but we also don't want you walking down a dark alley alone, using yourself as bait."

"Trust me Stella, he wants to finish this also."

"He's probably half way to Miami by now," she tries to protest.

"I heard his threats. He's not running. He only wants us to think that," Mac counters in haste as he turns to leave. But just before he does, his phone rings and both of them slightly jump. Mac's fingers instantly reach for the phone, stopped only by Stella checking the name on the LCD display.

"Don," Stella whispers as Mac answers in haste.

"Don you okay?"

_"Hmm so you are into a bit of role play now?" Wicks taunts. "Well if you like that name better, I'll work with it."_

"Where are you you son of a bitch?" Mac growls, causing Stella to offer a whispered curse as she pulls her phone and gets Adam to track the call.

_"Oh Stella is going to trace the call now right? Nice wedding ring you bought. Where did you get the money?" _

Mac turns and looks out the window at the building across the street.

_"The concerned look suits you Mac, course I had something else in mind for you. See you soon."_

"I..." is all Mac manages before the phone goes dead.

"Damn it not enough time," Stella growls.

"I know where he is," Mac states as he turns and rushes for the elevator, Stella in tow.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing," Mac huffs as the elevator heads for the first floor, Mac using the special emergency key so it would by pass the rest of the floors.

"Mac!"

"Stella, I told you I don't care what he said!" Mac snaps and then quickly recants. "This ends today."

They reach the bottom floor and hurry outside, holding up their badges and guns as they dart into traffic; enduring a few near misses as they race for the building a few feet away.

"NYPD!" Mac shouts as looks at Stella. "Have them block all the entrances. I'm heading for the basement."

"I'll check out the 35th floor. Just be careful," she warns as she veers off toward the security guard and hastily gives them instructions about shutting down the building; a frantic manhunt in progress.

Mac pounds his fingers into the Basement button, telling himself that Wicks has probably already escaped and that was his last call; one last tormented reminder before he headed for the nearest exit out of town.

"You'll not win Wicks," Mac's lips repeat over and over as the doors slowly open and his gun is already raised; his heart racing as he steps out into the dimly lit parking area, the cool air blasting him fully out of any stupor his mind might have retreated into.

He looks around one corner and then very carefully, making sure no one can surprise him, he starts to make his way toward the one of the outside entrances; the pounding in his ears so loud, he's convinced the drums will burst. A slight sound instantly draws his attention, his lips offering a slight gasp as a small rodent darts back into the shadows, his eyes reverting back to their original line of sight.

With his heart about ready to pound out of his chest, he nears one of the ramps to go out; but just before he can turn around, a glint of something gold catches his eyes and he's forced to move toward it. With his gun still raised, and his eyes darting around, his fingers latch onto the object as he slowly stands back up.

"Damn it," he curses as he gazes at a piece of what he knows to be Flack's shield. "You will pay Wicks, I will kill you for all you've done," Mac vows as he stows the piece into his suit jacket pocket and heads back toward the elevator; his suspicions just confirmed that Maurice Wicks is no longer in the building.

"Seal off this entrance for now," Mac directs the two NYPD officers that hurry toward him; giving him a nod as he passes by, his next stop the thirty-fifth floor.

Stella nervously paces, her mind racing as to Mac's reaction when she shows him what she's found. She could lie, she knows it would save him further anxiety; but if Wicks was to call and taunt him further, she also knows he needs to be ready.

"What did you find?" Mac's warm but firm voice asks as he exits the elevator onto the vacant floor, standing behind her with an expectant look.

"Mac..." she tries, her back still to him.

"Show me Stella, he's already done his worst," he grumbles as he marches up to her and takes the items in her hands. He angrily gazes upon some wallet size photos of him in various situations; each of them with a small commentary written on the back.

"Sick bastard," Stella curses with venom as she looks at Mac in concern. "What did you find?"

"A piece of Don's bloody shield," he retrieves the object and gives it to her. "I think he's so consumed with revenge this time Stella that he doesn't care."

"And that is bad."

"No that is good; it'll cause him to do something stupid and when that happens we'll be ready."

"Him doing something stupid ends with you in...well you know!" She snaps; her anger also getting the best of her.

"I won't yield to him!" Mac reconfirms as he grabs the photos and holds them up. "He wants me, he can come and get me, and when he does...I'll kill him," Mac vows as he turns on his heel and storms back toward the elevator; Stella giving the empty space one last glance before she follows.

The elevator ride to the bottom floor was spent in contemplative silence. Stella knowing that Mac wouldn't just outright murder Maurice Wicks, but knows if pushed hard enough was capable of inflicting serious damage on any human being. But the other part of her mind says that the only way Maurice Wicks would confront Mac would be with intention to either kill or harm and then kill, so Mac's words were indeed justified. This would end in death; she just prayed it wouldn't be the life of her beloved husband.

They reach the bottom and are bombarded by people with a million questions; Detective Sullivan being one of them.

"You sure it was him Mac?" Sully queries.

Mac fishes in his pocket for the small item and then puts it into Sully's open palm. "It's Don's and non I don't need it; I already know who we are looking for."

"Damn bastard," Sully curses as his large fist closes around the small bloody piece.

"How is he?"

"He sustained a punctured lung, some broken ribs, dislocated shoulder...ah you know the list; not enough to kill him but enough to piss him off," Sully grumbles. "We have all major routes of the city blocked, he won't get far."

"He's not looking to leave, he's looking to finish business. Any word on Franklin?"

"We have a lead and think we know where he's going. Any theories on him?"

"I'm not worried about him," Mac snaps.

"Right of course," Sully grumbles as he just shakes his head. "My boys will handle it from here Mac. You get a line on him, you better call me."

"Right of course," Mac feeds Sully back his own line before turning and storming toward the front door and out the building. He pauses before crossing the street, prompting Stella to look at him in wonder.

"What is it?" She asks in concern.

"I know he's watching, right now Stella; it's his game. He has no intention of leaving the city. He wants me," his voice dies out into a frustrated sigh.

"We aren't going to play his game Mac."

"The hell we aren't Stella," Mac counters sharply. "I won't be sitting here for the next few days, afraid to answer the damn phone or venture into the streets alone, because this sick bastard is waiting to finish what he started. Can't you see that?"

"Of course I can. But acceptance of that means I have to entertain for even the briefest second you in his clutches once again. Mac he won't take chances and you know that."

"If it's a fight to the death..."

"He'll want to violate you first!" She hisses before she turns away and walks toward the corner, needing the brief walk to help calm her down. "Neither of us could face that again."

"I know," Mac answers in a softer tone, offering her a remorseful frown and slight smirk. "I didn't mean to yell at you, especially in public."

"I'm just as angry and pissed off as you Mac," she confesses with a heavy sigh as they head across the street to their own building.

"Want some coffee?" Mac inquires as they pause outside the entrance to their building.

"Thought you were off, isn't that what you said this morning?" She reminds him with a kind smile.

"I..."

"We can have some upstairs."

"I just need a few minutes, I'll be right up," he tells her as she leans in closer.

"But..."

"Stella, if I go up there right now...I just need a few."

"I love you Mac," she whispers in his ear. "Never forget that."

He gives her the first genuine smile in hours and then heads into their favorite coffee shop, Stella at his side.

"Did you want those minutes alone?" She counters when he raises his brows in suspicion.

They stand in line, both talking about what they can expect next and how they'll keep themselves busy for the next few hours; not wanting to step on Sully's toes, but also not wanting to just go about the day as if everything were normal. Part of her suspects that if Wicks is watching, then Mac's lingering shows him that he's not afraid, that he'll go about his daily routine and thumb up to Wicks in any way possible.

"You know the rest of the team will ask questions, especially since Danny already I'm sure knows that Don is in the hospital."

"It the guy from the sting and he's on the run. It's the truth right?" Mac ponders as he gets to the counter.

"Detective Taylor."

"Reggie," he smiles at the young man ahead of him. "I'll have..."

"There is a call for you."

"For me? In here?" Mac asks in dread. "Who the he..." he starts as he's handed the phone, his heart rate picking up once again.

_"You like it black, right Mac? Just like I like black on you."_

"What do you want Maurice?" Mac asks calmly, knowing that if he loses his cool in such a public setting, there could be hell to pay.

_"That's simple, you."_

"Then tell me where and we'll end this right now!" Mac snaps as he heads toward a quieter area, Stella on the phone once again with Adam trying to trace the call.

_"No I want you Mac. Not in some silly macho showdown, I want you...I think you know how."_

"We will meet and you will die!" Mac vows, his voice raising sharply.

_"That might be true, but before that you'll have satisfied me and be dead also. Doesn't that make you all warm and fuzzy. It does me. Oh speaking of fuzzy...nah you like leather better right? Bye for now."_

"Bastard!" Mac growls as the line goes dead, his eyes quickly shifting to Stella's for an answer of any kind.

"Sorry Mac, Adam said the phone is one of those pay as you go and can only triangulate it to the Manhattan area. This creep might be sick but he's smart. He could be across the street again and by the time we got there we'd be wasting our time."

Mac hands the phone back to the young man and heads for the front door, his desire for something more stimulating all but vanished.

"We have to set a trap Stella."

"He'll suspect it Mac. I mean he's probably got all your calls monitored, hell he might even have you monitored," she tries to explain. "We send you alone anywhere and he'll know and drag this out until you get tired of waiting, drop your guard and he pounces."

"I want this over!" Mac shouts angrily into the quiet box of the elevator as it carries them back up to their offices. "I don't care how we do it, but I want a trap set and I want this over."

"Fine then lets go back to..."

"No, my office is in plain sight. I don't want him to see us. We'll use the back spare office, there are no windows."

"I'll call Jessica and meet you there."

Mac hurries toward the back office, closes the door, leaning against it while his body tries to work through the onslaught of a well deserved panic attack. He closes his eyes, the images from the small photographs now starting to haunt his thoughts and feels is chest starting to tighten.

_'No I **want **you,_' Wicks twisted words continue to torment him, his lungs now lightly gasping.

"Can't...let him...win," Mac tells himself in a soft tone as he squeezes his eyes shut and takes another deep breath; praying the spinning to ease and the dark circles to dissipate.

_'You into role play now?' _Wicks mocking laughter is once again filling his brain, threatening to seize a hold of him and destroy everything around his newly found inner self confidence that he's worked so hard to build over the past week.

"Never win" Mac vows again, this time with a firmer tone as he straightens back up, takes a deep breath and prays for the room to stop spinning long enough for him to formulate a new plan of attack. He knows Stella is right; Wicks would be suspecting him to just up and head for an isolated area, telling himself that he's bugged and it was a trap.

"I'll get you Wicks," he promises as he takes another deep breath, his chest finally under control, the heaving stopped and his heart rate starting to slow back to a respectable pace.

He hears Stella approaching and heads for the chair, sitting down behind the small desk just as she enters. She tosses him a suspicious glance but he merely offers her a slight shrug in return.

"Panic attack?"

"How on earth do you do that?" Mac asks in astonishment.

"One of your lapels is moved and it wasn't when we parted. So either you were kissing another woman..."

"I was not," Mac offers in hasty protest, prompting Stella's lips to slightly curl.

"Or you had to bend over and catch your breath."

"The latter," Mac resigns as he leans back in his chair. "But it's passed and I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"As fine as can be expected under these circumstances. To be honest, I just wanted to come here and get some peace; I hate the fact that he's always watching me. I know his intent."

"What can I do?"

"How is Don?"

"I just talked to Jessica and he's out of surgery and threatening to shoot any doctor that won't let him just up and leave and join the hunt right now. Sound familiar."

"I taught him well," Mac replies with a slight smirk. "Does he have police protection besides Jessica?"

"He's safe Mac and so is Jessica. Now we have to worry about you."

"He could use you to get to me."

"You know I'll never allow myself to be your Achilles heel Mac. He comes for me and I'll kill him outright," Stella assures him. "Now what can I do?"

"Well we need to address the team and then try to at least carry on a business as usual. We'll deploy the team into the field if we have to and run things from in here. That will make him think we're afraid..."

"In hopes of drawing him out," she once again finishes for him. "We are definitely ordering in tonight," she quips and his face finally softens.

"Actually I thought I would cook for us," Mac suggests and Stella looks at him with an arched brow. "Trust me, I doubt either of us is going to feel like eating tonight."

Before Mac could offer another word, a soft knock is heard at the door and Stella pulls it open to reveal Lindsay looking at them with a slight frown.

"Danny's gone to see how Don is and...well I need some help. Sheldon and Adam are in the field."

"I'll help," Stella quickly volunteers. "Be right there."

"I have to call Jimmy," Mac tells her as Lindsay takes her leave.

"Are you going to tell him..."

"Only what he needs to know. He doesn't have access to the evidence list so he doesn't need to know about me. Maybe if Drew were alive then..."

"Mac, if Drew were alive, none of this would be happening right now," she carefully reminds him.

"I know. Go help Lindsay and I'll see you later."

Mac watches Stella take her leave and then heads toward his office, telling himself that once he enters what might now as well be considered a glass fishbowl, that Wicks would be watching his every move. He settles into his leather chair, not wanting to bring up anything work related on his computer in case that could also be seen and somehow used to Wicks advantage.

He picks up the phone and calls Jimmy.

_"Well thanks for telling me Mac. I just knew Drew wouldn't take his life. At least my mind can have a bit of peace. And you said there were other's right? At least you got your eye witness. Send this bastard's murdering ass to jail for life!"_

"That is the plan. This man won't remain escaped for long Jimmy, but just thought in case you heard..."

_"Yeah must be nothing happening right here as it was headline news this morning," Jimmy smirks over the phone. "How are you holding up? I mean you had set this all up right?"_

"I had to Jimmy, felt I owed it to him...them somehow."

_"Them? There was more than one?"_

"This guy arranged a few murders to look like suicides. But Drew can rest in peace now, it's just a matter of time before it all goes down and we are back in control once again."

_"Well you sound determined Mac."_

"You have no idea how determined Jimmy. Take care and we'll talk soon."

But just as Mac's fingers press the receiver his ears pick up another voice on the line and his heart quickens pace once again.

_"Care to guess what I am doing right now Mac?" Wicks taunts once again._

Mac, however, doesn't indulge him, knowing that he's using a phone that's untraceable and could be any other building, or just guessing that he's watching. Ether way he wasn't going to play his damn game, so before Wicks can offer another word, Mac slams down the phone and picks up a file, praying the distraction will keep his mind occupied so he doesn't have another panic attack.

The phone rings again and he slightly jumps, offering a curse in Wicks name when he sees 'restricted number' pop up onto the display. He closes his eyes for a few brief seconds, his mind hearing Wicks laughter in the background and his fists tightening on the desk.

But when the phone rings, Mac quickly picks it up, his voice firm and in control, "didn't know you liked _lofts_ Maurice," Mac goads and then hangs up, taking the phone off the hook so that he can't get through again. Hopefully Wicks would stew on the fact that maybe Mac was on to him and he really would take his leave, allowing Mac the rest of his day in peace.

Stella finally joins him with a look of worry on her face, the same look that has been seemingly permanently etched since they first found out that Wicks had escaped.

"Anything?" She asks in a soft tone.

"You mean besides my wake up call?" Mac replies sourly.

"He's just trying to mess with you Mac, kill any growing confidence."

"I know and I'm ready for him," Mac answers, trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his words. "Anything new on Don?"

"Lindsay just left. She's going to pick up Lucy and head over there right now to be with Jessica. He has to stay in tomorrow but should be released the following day. How did it go with Jimmy? Did you call him yet?"

"I did and..." Mac's voice pauses as he leans back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the phone. "It was strained but I just give him the same things he'd hear on the news and that was it. I think knowing that Drew didn't just kill himself for a flimsy reason has given him some closure."

"As well as the friends of the other men," Stella informs him. "Flack had sent through a report. They all can now rest in peace."

"Only when Wicks is gone."

"We'll find him Mac, you know we will. Now you know there is nothing more we can do here except sit and wait for the damn phone to ring. At least let's go home, order something in and try to relax in our own home."

"He'll be watching."

"Then we'll close the blinds. Mac we know who's he's after and that won't change until, as you said he's gone, hopefully for good," Stella discusses. "Sully has arranged police protection. Maybe if he..."

"No," Mac quickly interjects. "If he sees the guards being pulled, he'll suspect a trap and back away for sure. We must make him think that we are taking every precaution available. Normally I would laugh such a notion off, but to beat this bastard at his own game we have to play his damn game!"

"Okay then," Stella confirms with a nod of her head. They both head out of Mac's office; the day mostly unproductive, but it was to be expected in light of early morning events. Sully had checked in every hour, but the progresses reports were mostly the same, they had nothing and Wicks had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Both of them sat in the cab on the way home, Stella's arm curled in Mac's; his phone clutched in his hand and ready just in case. Finally it buzzes to life and both of them quickly glance down at the LCD display.

"Sully," Mac mumbles as he goes to answer.

"At least we hope so," Stella adds wryly.

_"We got Franklin Wicks back," Sully explains. _

"Where did you find him?" Mac inquires, prompting Stella to mouth, _Maurice, _and him to mouth, _Franklin, _in return.

_"DC PD picked up in a small private airplane hangar just outside Dulles, heading toward Miami, next stop Bogota. His brother Maurice is next, it's only a matter of time. I'm thinking he's probably in DC somewhere, waiting for another private transport," Sully tells Mac._

"I think he's still in New York," Mac lightly huffs.

_"Gut feeling?"_

"Yes. A strong one. But keep me informed."

_"Okay."_

Mac hangs up with Sully and looks over at Stella with a heavy sigh. "They got Franklin and Sully is mistakenly assuming that Maurice is with him in DC. My gut tells me he's still here in New York. He doesn't want to go to Miami."

"When did you hear from him last?"

"A few hours ago," Mac answers as the cab stops and they both get out. "And no, I don't think he's left. I think he's lying in wait and planning his next move," Mac tells her as they walk toward the front door and nod to the two men standing guard.

"Still not very comforting," Stella groans as they head inside.

She knows that under these circumstances there is no way either of them will be getting any kind of solid rest; probably not even eating much dinner without getting indigestion. But until Maurice Wicks was either in jail or dead it was the price they both had to pay; Mac more so. Silently, inside her heart, she hope that Wicks dies tonight. Her love for her husband and hope for their future taking priority over human perseveration or compassion.

As soon as they enter their apartment, Mac hurries to close anything that might allow Maurice Wicks an insight into their apartment while Stella calls for some take out Chinese. She feels her stomach tighten when Mac's lips offer an angry curse and hopes that if he were ever to come face to face with Wicks, that he would be able to win the battle and not allow fear, in any way, shape or form to seize him.

Stella places the order and then slowly wanders toward the bedroom, but just before she does, the phone rings as she passes; causing her to slightly jump and reach for it in haste.

"Hello?"

_"Not the Taylor I wanted to talk to. Put your husband on the phone."_

"Listen to me you sick son of a..."

_"Maybe but I know he enjoyed it. Course not as much as me. Did he show you the pictures? Think you could ever so the same for him?" Wicks laughs._

"You are going..."

_"He gets off on me too honey," Wicks laughs. "Now go and say goodbye to him, screw him tonight or whatever and then tell him I'll see him soon."_

Stella slams the phone down and looks up to see Mac watching with a worried expression. "Wrong number," she growls before she turns and heads back into the kitchen, quickly swallowing back her fear and praying her eyes don't water any further; it wasn't the time for either of them to fall apart.

"Come here," Mac's warm voice soothes as he carefully gathers her into his strong arms. "We'll get him Stella."

"Mac you have to be careful," she whispers sadly. "He's so...still so confident. As if having the whole city on alert to where his sorry ass is, isn't making him scared at all."

"Because he has nothing to lose," Mac huffs. "And that is what makes him even more dangerous."

"I'll not lose you Mac, no matter what you better promise me..." her voice trails off in sorrow, prompting her to quickly turn away.

Mac's fingers gently turn her chin to face him, his heart breaking at a rare display of emotional weakness on her part.

"The things he says...they are just so...so ugly and vile."

"I know he says the same to me," Mac frowns as his fingers tenderly brush away a stray tear and he kisses her on her flushed lips.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" Mac arches his brows.

"For him forcing me to play the weepy female card, when you know I don't cry very often," she laments.

"What is it you always tell me? Its a sign of trust and strength to show your weaknesses to those who love you?" Mac quips and her face softens. "I'm not going anywhere Stella."

"Promise me Mac," she holds up her pinky, forcing his lips to curl and his finger to quickly grasp hers.

"I promise," he utters as his pinky wraps around hers. "Come on lets get the table ready."

"Are you even hungry?"

"No," he confesses in truth. "Are you?"

"No," she agrees with a slight frown. "But I guess we should at least try."

Both of them work to get the table ready, neither of them wanting to eat anything at all and both anxious to know where Wicks was and what he was up to. The Chinese food finally arrives, Mac almost hesitant to open the door but does and curses himself for allowing Wicks once again to control his thoughts and actions.

"I hate this Stella," Mac laments as they both sit at the table, merely picking at their food. "Waiting for the phone to ring, jumping at every whispered echo outside the door, wondering what the hell that bastard is up to."

"We have no other choice Mac, until he's caught, it's his game. If I thought that we could have everything covered by sending you someplace and luring him in, I know he wouldn't bite and we'd be wasting even more of our precious mental energy then we are right now."

"In a way I'm glad this happened."

"What?" Stella asks in shock, touching Mac's fingers and forcing his eyes upward. "We are trapped in our own home Mac, why on earth would you be glad?"

"Because it's forced me to realize how weak I have been and instead of him making me cower I want nothing more than to get my hands on him and ki..." his voice stops as Stella's fingers gently rest on his cheek.

"You were worried you'd never find your way back to the old Mac Taylor? The man I fell in love with?"

"I'm not the same man any more Stella," Mac softly reminds her.

"That's true. You're _better_ and _stronger _than you were before," she praises. "You've faced the devil and come back on your own terms. That was the real battle Mac; inside your head and heart. You had to realize that, for you and for us."

"I'm just sorry it took me so long."

"Better late than never," she whispers as she leans in closer. "I love you Mac Taylor."

"I love you Stella Taylor," he whispers in reply as his lips firmly push against hers, flooding both of them with instant heated passion. A few minutes later they pull back, faces gently flushed and hearts racing. However, their brief make-out session wasn't enough to cement in either of their minds the need for some sexual activity right now; a very real threat was still looming and they wouldn't be able to concentrate, much less enjoy each other or the moment until Maurice Wicks was were he belonged.

"He said..."

"What Stella?"

"That tonight would...be...last...oh damn it Mac."

"Tomorrow Stella, I promise," he whispers as he kisses her once more.

"Speaking of tomorrow, I'll put the rest away then," Stella sighs as she heads into the kitchen with two of the take out containers, Mac in tow with the others. He sets them down upon the counter and pulls her again into his grasp, resting his forehead on hers and allowing his body to emit a heavy sigh.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Stella inquires in wonder.

"For just being here and loving me...and never giving up despite all the hell I've put you through."

"You were forced into circumstances beyond your control Mac."

"But I..." he starts only to have her press her lips against his and stop his speech, pulling back and resting her hand on his face.

"Leaving you was never an option for me Mac, no matter how dark the past few weeks have been. I love you too much; you are my life. If I were to leave my own life would be over."

Mac feels his eyes starting to mist and pulls her close, burying his head on her shoulder, his lips on her neck and his warm breath forcing small shivers down her spine. His body sags into his; wanting to betray an inner sexual need but his mind always reminding him that Wicks is loose and he'll never be fully free until he's gone for good. For Mac knew that Wicks wasn't going back to jail; the next time they'd meet it would be a fight to the death.

_A fight I intend to win, _Mac's brain states confidently. There was no other option.

"Want to have a shower?" Stella asks in a quiet tone.

"Not sure I um..."

"Might help your nerves calm a little."

"Okay," he merely replies as she plants one more kiss on his lips. "I'll be waiting for you in bed."

"I'll be there as soon as I'm finished with this."

Mac takes his leave and heads for the bathroom, his heart beating faster at the fact that Wicks was watching. Despite the shades being drawn and Wicks have no way of seeing inside, his skin still crawled at the fact that with Wicks loose, he still might see him in a total state of undress.

_'Can't wait to see you again Mac...keep you gagged...I want you...I WILL HAVE YOU!' _His mind replays as he enters their bedroom and he stops, closing his eyes for a few seconds, praying for the inner taunts to subside.

Mac feels his body involuntarily shudder at Wicks words but when he opens his eyes he sees Wicks smiling face looking back at him with an ear to ear grin, winking just before the image fades and Mac's lips fill the room with an angry curse.

"Thought you were going to have a shower?" Stella asks as she comes into the room and stands beside him.

"Just can't...not with him watching," Mac shakes his head in disgust; mostly at himself for being so instantly weak, especially after what he said about wanting to be strong and get to the end of this. "I almost feel like I am being a hypocrite toward myself."

"I know you are strong Mac. Trust me if it were me and Frankie was on the loose and watching, I would still feel like hiding myself. Let's just get into bed and try to relax. You know there are guards posted at the front and back of the building and one in the hallway, he can't get us."

Mac nods in agreement and slowly both of them start to undress, Mac's eyes darting to his wife, feasting on her tempting flesh as she slowly pulls on something to sleep in. Stella turns and catches him watching, delighting when he doesn't turn away; her own eyes noting the budge in his pants but not really surprised that his erection doesn't grow; she can't fault him for not being fully aroused if he thinks his nearly would be assaulter is watching him right now. Even with the blinds closed she knows Mac can feel Wicks penetrating gaze.

The last progress report they had from Sully was that they thought Maurice Wicks was headed toward Canada, a small tip from an online airline. However, Mac replied that it was a trick and to start searching all the buildings around their apartment and lab. He was in the area and not going away until he got what he wanted revenge on the one that got away.

Stella heads for bed, pulls back the covers and slowly eases herself between them, leaving space for Mac who without hesitation joins her, pulling her into his strong grasp and placing her head on his shoulder. His lips plant a tender kiss on the top of her head and although the bedroom door is open and the hall light on, he turns off their small bedside lamp to at least take away the immediate brightness.

"I think I know were I want to go," Stella pipes up.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you wanted to go someplace after all this was over. Do you still want to?"

"I do," Mac agrees as his mind starts to settle a little. "What did you have in mind?"

"Hmm maybe I want it to be a surprise."

"Stella, you can't tell me that now," Mac groans. "I have enough to worry about."

"Who said you had anything to worry about?" She counters. "Just you...and me...and..."

"And what?" He arches his brows in the dimly lit room, twisting his head to gaze upon her profile.

"Can't tell you Mac," Stella lightly pokes his side, forcing a small burst of warm laughter from his lips. She settles back into place, delighting as his fingers stroke the side of her face, her body now fully engulfed in warmth thanks to his being pressed up against hers. She starts to just babble on about highlights of their honeymoon to Greece and in no time, his breathing starts to slow and his heart rate drop to a normal level. He had lost the mental battle and was trying to sleep.

"Sleep Mac, I'll keep first watch," she promises into the dark, keeping her eyes open for as long as possible until she too joined her husband in the troubled realm of sleep; neither of them expecting to get anything solid in the way of rest. Sure enough Mac was one again jolted awake by Wicks taunting words and pictures of himself helpless just before he died and his sleep cycle was broken.

"Sorry," he murmurs as Stella's frame moves with his, her lips offering a soft grunt of displeasure that she was awoken. She quickly makes amends, telling him she wasn't really asleep because of the circumstances and for him to try to rest if possible.

"I'll keep watch," Mac tries to assure her as he shifts to his side, her arm now draped around his waist. He fixes his eyes on the door for as long as possible before he finally surrenders, letting his eyes close and his mind whisked away into the nightmarish dream world that he's accustomed to.

However, only about twenty minutes later, his eyes struggled open once again, his mind racing with fresh images of terror and his ears bouncing Wicks taunts back and forth, making his head pound and his heart ache.

"Can you still hear his voice?" Stella's soft question breaks him from his tormented rest.

"I just need this to be over," he admits with a heavy sigh, prompting her frame to snuggle closer into his, her arm once again draped over his firm chest, mindful of the bruises that were still healing. "I keep trying to think about our wedding but I can picture in my mind is him across the street staring at me through the window."

"Don't you dare punish yourself for this Mac. No matter how many happy memories I want to force my mind to dwell on, I keep hearing his words about you and my mind is just as worried as yours," she confesses, forcing his arm to tighten around her and his lips to plant a soft kiss on the top of her head.

The rest of the night was spent the same; they'd try to fall back asleep, find success for about twenty minutes and then do the whole thing over until the morning finally came and they were able to get one hour only of solid rest before the alarm went off and the moment was broken; both facing a long and tiring day ahead.

Stella rolls over and looks at Mac and frowns; his face is crunched and small beads of sweat lightly dotting his brow and her stomach tightens; his eyes open, watching her every move. Her fingers gently brush the damp locks pasted to his forehead before she leans in and kisses his rough cheek.

"I almost want to tell you stay home and try to sleep but I know it would be a waste of my breath," she huffs.

"Would you?" Mac counters.

"Hardly," Stella answers as she leans in closer once more. "What is the plan for today?"

"Same as yesterday. We do our routine and hope that Wicks just tries to make his move and by dinner time tonight he'll be dead and we'll be free," Mac answers in a serious tone. "You know that's the way it has to be."

"I know, I just wish it was tonight already," Stella sighs as she turns over onto her back, looking up at Mac with a loving glance. "I love you so much Mac."

Mac leans down and presses his lips to hers, his fingers tucking a stray curl behind her ear before he pulls back with a soft smile. "I'll start the coffee."

Stella watches him get out of bed, his strong shoulders slightly slumped, hair mussed and lungs offering a heavy sigh of weary defeat. But his words were true, in order for them to be truly free, then Maurice Wicks had to die. Knowing that despite their being a bit tardy today, there would be no shower for two; today would be just as tense as yesterday, if not more.

She finally pushes herself out of bed, puts on her robe and then heads into the kitchen to join Mac in getting their day started. Neither of them really in the mood for much in the way of breakfast, telling themselves that coffee and a few breakfast bars would have to suffice.

"We'll have the rest of these leftovers for dinner," Stella eyes the Tupperware that contains their take out from the night before and then looks up at Mac.

"Probably have the same appetite we did last night," Mac confesses in truth. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Stella wraps her arms around his neck and then brings his lips to hers. "Just don't go down any dark alley's alone."

"Agreed," Mac replies as he kisses her back.

They both head into the lab, Mac on the phone with Sully getting an update on Don's status and then anything on Wicks whereabouts.

"He's probably just laying low until the direct heat dies down Mac," Stella gently reminds him as they get into the elevator, heading up to their offices and lab on the thirty-fifth floor.

"Do you believe that Stella?" Mac counters with arched brows.

"No," she admits quietly, as she looks at him with a slight frown, her fingers still tightly clutching his. The doors open and they are greeted with the mild activity of their team as they go about their jobs as they were trained to do; none of them really grasping the true terrible significance of the man that was still stalking their leader.

"I'll check on the autopsy reports," Mac suggests as they reach his office.

"The case..." Stella starts, only to have Mac hold up his hand to stop her.

"I'll be right back. I think I owe Sid an apology."

Knowing that in truth Sid would never hold it against her husband nor expect him to come back and grovel, in her heart she knows that Mac's motivation is for his own peace of mind. She gives him a nod and then tells him that she'll meet him in the processing lab and they part.

Mac heads down to Sid's area and approaches the seasoned ME with a nervous glance.

"Hey Mac," Sid greets with his usual trademark warm expression.

"I just need the results that Lindsay and Stella were waiting for."

"Lead poisoning," Sid hands Mac the file. But when Mac hesitates in place, Sid is quick to call him on it. "Mac?"

"Just wanted to um...say sorry for my attitude over the past few days."

"Heard your sting was a success but you were in one hell of a fight. I'm sure you still have a few nightmares left over."

"Just a few. Think they'll pass?" Mac asks, not really expecting an answer.

"They will," Sid assures Mac as a delivery man walks up to them.

"Delivery for Mac Taylor," the man says standing before Mac.

"Yeah thats me," Mac mumbles as he signs for the small envelope and then looks at Sid with a frown before he pulls away a few feet and then rips the top open.

_'Thanks for wearing black to day Mac. My favorite color.'_

"Damn bastard," Mac curses under his breath.

"Mac?" Sid's voice calls out as Mac races after the delivery guy.

"Hey! Come back here!" Mac calls out; prompting the man to quicken his pace, the delivery guy heading for the back exit door.

"Stop!" Mac shouts once more.

Mac reaches the back alley exit, bursts through the door and gazes up the alley, only to see it empty. However, when Mac turns around to check the other direction, his eyes lock with the last person he expected to see and he feels his world come to a dead stop.

"_Wicks_," is the one word his brain utters in dread.

"Hello Mac, miss me?"

* * *

**A/N**: sorry for the cliffe but any thoughts as to how it'll play out? The ending is up next so stay tuned. Please let me know how this chapter was and thanks again to everyone who has endured so far.


	16. Revenge & Rebirth

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 16 - Revenge & Rebirth**

**A/N:** okay so sorry for bombarding you all with too many updates but I just want to finish a few stories off. But hope you like this and thanks! :D

* * *

For what seems like a small eternity, Mac remains frozen in place; unable to move as if some wicked unseen force was keeping him where needed and wanted, against his will once again. _RUN! _His brain screams over and over, his fingers still fixed at his side, unable to reach for his weapon as his evil tormentor's lips slowly twist upward into a hungry grin.

"I have..." Mac starts only to have Wicks, in lighting speed, rush him, pushing him up against the side of the building, one hand over his mouth and the other a gun pointed into his cheek.

"You have nothing!" Wicks hisses as he glares at Mac in contempt. "Thought you could just set up some kind of sting and get away with it?"

Mac's eyes narrow but his body remains fixed in place; that is until Wicks words instantly alert his brain to the serious danger he's facing.

"Time to go someplace quiet Mac," he whispers. "Just the two of us...and have some _real fun_. Time to make you _mine._"

But as Wicks face looms closer, his lips inches from Mac's ear, Mac's brain finally forces him to take swift action; flooding his entire being with heated adrenaline. His knee swiftly comes upward, lands in Wicks groin and forces the large man's grasp on him to falter.

Mac bolts for the right, his fingers trying to frantically grasp either his phone or his gun when Wicks pounces, sending both of them crashing to the pavement in an angry jumble of arms and legs. Wicks punches Mac in his still tender ribs, causing Mac's lips to offer a grunt of pain; but Mac is able to counter, bringing his elbow up and clipping Wicks in the jaw.

Driven on by an evil lust, Wicks strength seems to surge as he brings the butt end of the gun into Mac's tender spot on his temple, causing Mac's head to snap to the other side, hitting the pavement and scraping his cheek further.

"Like your ideas about foreplay Mac," Wicks laughs as he punches Mac in the side once more.

Mac's heart nears dangerous levels as his brain yells at him that to give up now would mean his everlasting death. He tries to twist himself around, punching back at Wicks who is thrown backward, landing on the cement on his butt. The large man's body offers an involuntary groan as Mac kicks him in the leg, their bodies almost free of each other.

Mac's fingers finally rest on his gun only to have Wicks dive onto him once more, his body slamming backward onto the pavement and his gun clattering just out of hands reach.

"I like being on top," Wicks licks his lips; Mac's knee once again coming up and connecting with Wicks groin. "Damn...you," Wicks curses as he hangs onto Mac's weary frame, refusing to give up. Mac now curses the fact that his body is almost running on fumes; lack of sleep and very little food, not much fuel for his brain to to keep his body fighting to the end.

Mac punches Wicks in the jaw once more and then lands another blow to his side before Wicks frame starts to ease its grasp, threatening to role to the side; setting Mac free once and for all.

Wicks grabs a handful of hair, painfully jerking Mac's head backward before he hits him again in the temple with the gun, Mac's fighting stance rapidly wearing down. Another blow to the side and Mac's chest starts to heave and his brain to shout panicked warning messages that he's about to be taken captive once again.

"HELP!"

Wicks finally gets to his feet, kicking Mac hard in the side; Mac's lips offering a painful yelp as his throbbing ribs absorb another merciless blow; the third kick he's sure has cracked his ribs for sure. With lightening speed, Wicks whips out his custom handcuffs; another pair supplied by a crooked dealer and quickly reaches for one of Mac's wrists, snapping it around before Mac has a chance to react.

_FIGHT BACK! _Mac's brain yells as his body lies on the ground, gasping for air and trying to get his eyes to focus.

Too late.

Mac can only curse himself as the other cuff is snapped around his wrist, trapping him once again. However, unlike before he's not about to give up, telling himself that he'd rather die fighting than allow himself to be the pawn in this sick man's twisted revenge game.

"Time to go Mac," Wicks grins as he reaches for the middle of the cuffs and tries to yank Mac to his feet.

Mac, however, kicks his legs out, pushing Wicks backward and sending the large man crashing to the ground on his knees. Knowing that he needs either a key or a cutting device to set himself free, Mac pushes himself to his feet and rushing for the back exit door he came out of; breathing hard and praying for his heart not to give out just yet.

"HEL..."

"Damn it," he curses when he realizes that he needs a security card to get back in and his cuffed wrists won't afford him that luxury. Just as he's about to turn around, Wicks fingers land on the back of his suit jacket and tug him backward, forcing him to nearly lose his footing as he crashes into the large frame of his captor.

"Let's go someplace more private," Wicks growls as he tries to keep Mac from struggling too much.

Not about to let that happen, at least not without the fight of his life, Mac sends his head backward into Wicks face, not caring that his head was now pounding harder. Wicks body falters backward, but his firm grasp in Mac's black suit jacket doesn't waver as he continues to drag Mac toward a waiting van; a van that is disguised as a City Utility truck; something that the surrounding police don't suspect.

"HELP ME!" Mac shouts only to have Wicks give him a hard punch to the back; his lungs temporarily winded and gasping for air.

Not caring about the straining on his neck, he twists himself around, knees Wicks in the groin once more at the same time as he brings his cuffed wrists up, clipping Wicks in the lip and busting it open.

Mac is finally free of his grasp.

"Damn bastard!" Wicks growls as he watches Mac pivot on his foot and charge in the other direction, heading toward what he hopes is the back door to a building full of people that want to help him. He yanks the door open and his heart sinks.

The building was empty of everything.

This time, help would have to be signalled from above.

XXXXXXXX

"Thanks Jess," Stella finishes her call with a heavy sigh. Without really thinking about the force that is leading her toward the window, Stella absently heads for the window that overlooks the back alley; the same alley that her husband is now engaged in in a fight for his very existence.

"It's just the waiting that Mac hates. I do also. I just wish that he would..." Stella starts and then stops, her throat admitting a slight gasp as she gazes upon the unfolding scene below her in horror. She watches her husband dart into the opposite building, unaware that his wrists are bound and watches another man rush after him.

"Jess I'll call you back," she quickly ends the call and then races for the back service elevator; praying that it's not Wicks and that Mac and another officer are giving chase. "Damn it MOVE!" She yells to the elevator as it heads for the basement level.

"Sully, I am not sure but I think Mac might have a lead on Wicks location."

"Where?" Sully's tired voice inquires.

"Right across the street. Back alley, look for a blue door marked 'entrance'. I think it was him I saw chase Mac inside."

She closes her phone just as the elevator door open and races toward the back exit door; her mind racing with terrible thoughts that Mac was running from Wicks and that something would go wrong and her beloved husband would be lost to her for good.

She reaches the middle of the alleyway and gasps when she sees Mac's service weapon on the pavement and hurries toward it.

"Mac," her lips offer in worry as she puts his gun into her holster, hers already drawn. She carefully pulls the back door open and steps inside, not allowing the closing door to alert anyone to her presence; but fearing her pounding heart would do that for her. _Oh God, please just let Mac be okay. _She offers a quick silent prayer before the silence is shattered by a familiarly sickening voice; one that makes her stomach lurch instantly and her anger to skyrocket.

"Oh I like hide and seek Mac, makin' me hard already," Wicks voice taunts as he hovers behind a pile of construction debris.

Mac leans against one of the support beams, trying to get his heart rate to come back to normal and his chest to take slower breaths. His fingers finally land on his phone and quickly pull it out, only to curse when he sees it's broken and offering no signal; no one to call for help to.

He hears Wicks shuffling toward him, quickly shoves the phone back into his pocket and then starts to frantically look around for another escape exit. The front door, as he had quickly learned, was chained shut; another way out would need to be found.

He makes a bolt for the stairs, praying his legs won't give out or that at any moment fear won't seize him and render him helpless in Wicks grasp.

"Ah I see you Mac!" Wicks shouts as he races after Mac, Stella rushing after him. with her gun ready However, as he keeps darting between and behind things, a clear shot is not possible.

Mac reaches the stairs just as Wicks reaches him, tugging his pant let and causing Mac to crash onto the wooden stairs on his stomach, Wicks fingers wrapped around the fabric of his black dress pants.

Mac's fingers grasp onto one of the wooden stairs just as Wicks tries to yank him back.

"Don't care where I do ya Mac..." Wicks laughs. "Here's as good a place as any."

"Go to...hell!" Mac growls in return as he finally lets go, twists himself around and clips Wicks in the face with his shoe. He wastes no time in pushing himself back up and racing up the stairs, not knowing where they are going but telling himself that he can't give up.

_"Mac!"_

His brain thinks it hears Stella calling his name, but knows he didn't have a chance to call her so cannot allow himself to be distracted by anything.

Mac reaches the first landing; Wicks now in pursuit, Stella reaching the bottom of the stairs. She looks up and once again offers a heavy Grecian curse; she's still unable to see Wicks to take any kind of fatal shot.

"Mac!" She calls once more, only hearing Wicks cursing her name but Mac not paying much heed.

Knowing that his time with Mac could be short lived, Wicks knows he has to get rid of Stella. So instead of pursuing Mac, he presses his large frame behind one of the large construction bulkhead containers and waits for her to show up.

Stella reaches the top of the stairs only to have Wicks jump out from his hiding spot and pounce; crashing into her and sending her teetering backward, dangerously close to going over the railing, her gun falling from her fingers.

"MAC!" Stella yells again as she counters and lands a punch to Wicks already bruised jaw.

"STELLA!"

"Bitch!" Wicks growls as his hand rises to strike her.

However, just before his hand can break her skin or even make contact, Mac's cuffed wrists come around Wicks and yanks him backward, sending the large man's body pounding down on top of Mac's, but allowing Stella to go free.

"Always liked an audience," Wicks laughs as his arms encircle Mac's body, trapping his wrists to his chest and keeping him captive. "Like when you struggle on top of me Mac. Can you feel me getting hard."

"Let go of him you sick pig!" Stella warns as she kicks Wicks in the side.

Wicks arms shoots out, leaving Mac's left side, grabbing Stella's boot before she can kick him and again and sending her backward onto her butt.

Wicks heaves Mac to the side and stands up, gun trained just as Stella reaches for Mac's; both of them locked in a heated showdown.

Wicks grabs a handful of Mac's hair and painfully jerks him upward into his grasp, his arm wrapping around Mac's neck and the gun leaving Stella and pushing into Mac's dirty and flushed cheek.

"He's mine," Wicks sneers as he cocks the trigger; Mac's body now a shield for any vital organs of the large man.

"It's over Wicks; the police are on their way."

"He leaves with me or he dies right now. You decide."

"Shoot him Stella," Mac painfully gasps as he struggles for oxygen.

"Put the gun down or he dies," Wicks slowly drags Mac backward, dangerously close to a part of the landing that doesn't have a safety balcony around it.

"Stella..."

"He goes with you and he dies also," Stella laments.

"Either way you lose," Wicks smiles as his lips near Mac's face. "Besides...he likes me better anyways," Wicks finishes as his face presses against Mac's, Stella noticing Mac swallow hard and then close his eyes for a brief second. "Want to watch me pleasure myself on your husband right here?"

But Mac opens his eyes and then locks them with Stella; they both know what they have to do. If Mac leaves with Wicks, they both know his life is over and that wasn't an option. Stella sees the fear in Mac's eyes and knows that he'd rather take an ounce of lead than whatever ugly intentions Wicks has planned. However, as he gives her a small nod, she sees the fear quickly replaced by cold blue steel and knows what course of action his unspoken words are dictating.

_Shoot Wicks, doesn't matter where...just enough to loosen his grasp on Mac's neck. _

And that's what she does.

Stella's fingers slowly pull back on the trigger, her hand dropping before Wicks even has time to react. She pulls back, sending the bullet past Mac's right leg, grazing his skin before it embeds itself into the large man's thick calf.

Wicks screams in pain, his grasp dropped, allowing Mac to twist himself around, bring the heavy cuffs upward, catching Wicks in the jaw and sending him backward. Still breathing hard from the shot to the leg, his blood continuing to spill, his fight against Mac isn't the hardened affair it was earlier.

Driven on by pure hatred and rage, Mac hits him again; sending them both backward a bit closer toward the unguarded edge.

"Told you...you bastard," Mac huffs as he hits him again, his cuffs landing in his ribs and sending him backward further still.

"This time..." Mac continues as he reaches the very edge; Wicks gasping for air and Mac not giving up, his brain yelling at him to finish it off.

However, just as Wicks body teeters on the edge, he hears Stella calling his name; Wicks fingers grasping a handful of black dress shirt as he falls backward, taking Mac's body with him.

"NO!"

"STELLA!"

"MAC!" Stella screams in horror as she watches her beloved husband topple over the edge, his captor's fingers still tangled in black fabric.

"I win," Mac whispers, loud enough for Wicks to hear as they both sail through the air. He closes his eyes, telling Stella he loves her and wondering if this really is the end. If it is, he met it on his terms and won; never allowing his twisted attacker even one grasp, one touch, one twisted finger in an area he didn't want.

This time Mac was in control of his future.

He had won.

He was finally free.

Stella watches in horror as Wicks body slams into a pile of debris, a jagged piece of rebar ripping into his body, piercing his heart and killing him; but not before his brain registers Mac's triumphant, _'I win, it's over,' _sentiment; realizing that he lost, he never succeeded in bringing down the one man that not only defied him but exposed him for the devil he really was and in the end won the ultimate battle - for his life and his very sanity.

She watches as the piece of rebar slices through Mac's suit jacket, his body coming to lie still and her heart racing with panic that she's had to watch him die; defending them both as he was trained.

"Mac...oh god no...please god no..." she chants over and over as she rushes down the stairs, stumbling at the end and slightly tripping. She hears the sirens outside, but doesn't care, she has to get to Mac.

"Stella!" Sully's voice shouts as he enters the back door.

"Sully, call an ambulance!" Stella shouts as she reaches Mac's frame. She approaches with some hesitation, fearing that he really is lost to her and she'll be forever damned to be alone; never wanting another man as long as she drew breath. Her fingers immediately rest on his warm neck, her heart finally settling when she feels a faint pulse.

"Oh thank God," Stella whispers as she feels a pulse.

"Ste-lla," Mac's lips lightly croak as his ears pick up commotion heading his was.

"You're okay Mac," Stella states softly as she quickly lifts up his suit jacket; cringing at the nasty gash the rebar has made, but thankful that he's alive and it didn't do any permanent damage. "Just hold on okay."

"Stella..."

"Sully, help me with this," Stella instructs as their long time friend and NYPD Detective John Sullivan reaches them.

"What the hell?" He ponders as he radio's for the ME's van as well. "Hold on Mac, we go you," Sully states as he gestures to another officer and they very carefully hoist Mac off wick's broken body; his large frame absorbing most of the impact from the fall; Maurice Wicks was ofically dead.

"Mac, hold on," Stella states as she very carefully cradles Mac's head as one officer applies some pressure to his gaping wound and another works at getting the cruel device off his wrists.

"You got him Mac," Stella whispers as the paramedics finally arrive. "It's really over, you won. You're free."

This time, Stella takes much delight as his fingers continue to clutch hers firmly, letting go only once as he loaded into the back of the ambulance and then quickly taking them once again; his attitude toward her a vast difference than the last time he was forced to ride in one of these to see Dr. Adams.

Stella's fingers gently brush some dirt off his handsome face, her lips curling upward when he offers her a slight smile. Her smile turns to a frown as she leans back and ponders what just happened.

"We are free now," Mac's hoarse tone breaks her from her thoughts, pulling her gaze back to him.

"I know," she lightly replies, swallowing back a hard lump of sorrow. "Almost at too high a price Mac."

Mac offers her a nod, his mouth giving another soft grunt of pain as the paramedics work on keeping the wound clean until Dr. Adams can properly treat and stitch up. Mac watches the ER doors approach and unlike last time, is actually thankful that he's arriving to see his old friend in one piece; instead of having him declare his death and send Stella away a widow.

"Bring him in here," Dr. Adams instructs the paramedics, Stella in tow.

She offers him a kind smile and then hangs back; not sure if she's wanted as she wasn't last time.

"Where's Stella?" Mac asks softly, the medics leaving him in the capable hands of his doctor.

With a large smile on her face, Stella hurries to his side; unable to get their fast enough and thankful that her husband is back to his old self. He faced his worst fear, a devil that nearly not only destroyed his life but also his emotional and mental well being. And when it was needed the most; he was able to regain the confidence and power he had before, take his life back and show that man that he was no longer afraid; taking back his life in the only way possible.

"Well now young man, let's see what you did to yourself," Dr. Adams starts in a kind tone as he slowly peels away Mac's blood stained dress shirt and sighs. "How did this one turn out?"

"I won," Mac replies firmly, with a hint of pride in his tone.

Dr. Adams fingers rest firmly on Mac's shoulder, prompting Mac to look up with a soft glance. "I knew you would," Dr. Adams whispers, giving him a gentle squeeze before he gets back to work. "Can you lie down for me?"

Mac slowly eases himself onto his back, his eyes still locked with Stella's and his fingers firmly clasping hers. His lips offer an automatic wince as Dr. Adams continues to inspect further, cleaning and then stitching up before he applies the large protective covering and then rewrapping his tender and cracked ribs. Mac slowly sits up and looks at Dr. Adams with a heavy frown.

"I never got to thank you," Mac states with a slight frown.

"No need to thank me Mac. I care for you, both of you; like the children I never had. It wasn't a choice for me. Are you going to be okay now? I mean did you confront him today? Is that who you won against?"

"He's gone Ben, by my doing and I saw it with my own eyes. I'm not sorry he's dead," Mac utters in tone that holds a twinge of hatred and disdain.

"After what he did I can't blame you and neither will anyone else," Dr. Adams assures him.

"But I'm free."

"And that's all that really matters."

Mac slowly pushes himself upright and then faces his old friend with a weary smile. He holds out his hand as a gesture of thanks, but Dr. Adams pulls Mac into his arms and holds him close.

"Take care young man and drop by when you can, without the need of medical attention," Dr. Adams quips. He gives Stella a hug as well, whispering in her ear that they were back on track and would be even better than they were before.

"I agree," Stella smiles as she pulls back, looking at Mac with a warm grin. "Let's go home." Stella wraps her arm around his waist as they both say another goodbye to Dr. Adams before they head into the hallway, heading for home to finally get some much needed and well deserved rest.

"I just want to stop and see Don before we go."

"I'm sure he'd like to hear the news from you," Stella plants a soft kiss on his freshly cleaned cheek. "That is if Sully hasn't ruined your fun."

Mac twists his head and just arches his brows, his mind and heart finally starting to settle; a feeling of peace and contentment starting to wash over; a feeling he hasn't felt in weeks. They reach Flack's room, only to have both him and Jessica look up in wonder.

"Mac? What happened?" Flack asks in haste.

"Did Sully call you yet?"

"No."

"Maurice Wicks is dead. He um, died about an hour ago," Mac informs him.

"How'd it happen? Or should I..." Flack's eyes trail down to Mac's abdomen as Mac slowly lifts his black dress shirt to reveal the dirty side that Dr. Adams just fixed. "You got him?"

"He's gone Don, gone for good."

"I'm glad," Flack huffs as he lays his head back down. He looks over at Jessica who just nods and then looks up at Stella.

"I need a coffee, want to come with me to get one?"

"Sure," Stella agrees, sensing the need for Flack to obviously tell Mac something in private and knowing that Jessica doesn't know all the details about what Mac endured.

Mac watches them leave and then pulls up a chair beside his friend, his lips offering a heavy sigh as he eases his frame into the chair. "Don? What is it?"

"I'm sorry if you've felt...well...I'm sorry Mac, I never meant to be distant but...well in truth I blamed myself for what you endured?"

"Why?" Mac arches his brows in suspicion. "I made the choice myself. I knew the risks and the uh..."

"You didn't know what he'd do to you Mac," Flack's voice manages a tormented whisper. "I should have stopped you."

"Could you have? I mean really?"

"Coulda got Stella to chain you to the bed."

"I'm sure she would have liked that," Mac smirks.

"Yeah not just her," Flack agrees with a softening grin. "You okay? I mean now that it's all over."

"I know it'll take a bit more time before everything inside my mind fades completely but at least I'll not have to worry about him any longer right? So with the direct threat gone, I'm going...we are going to be just fine."

"Yeah Stella deserves a medal for putting up with you during all this," Flack smirks, his tone one of a light teasing.

"That she does," Mac agrees with a heavy sigh. "Well I'll let you get some rest. I'm going home to sleep."

Flack looks at Mac in shock and then at the wall clock and then back at Mac who merely offers a slight chuckle in his defense.

"Blame Wicks for my lack of sleep as of late. It's my excuse while it still works," Mac replies. "Talk to you later."

Mac heads out of the room and sees Jessica and Stella just outside talking and smiling and feels his heart rating continuing to decline. He watches Stella a few moments longer; Don was right, she did deserve a medal; that and so much more. He would make it up to her; he had to, he just wasn't sure yet how that would happen.

"See you both tomorrow," Jessica tells them before she disappears back into Flack's room, leaving Mac and Stella alone in the hallway.

"So back to work?" Stella inquires as she loops her arm in Mac's; Mac's arms encircling her waist as his lips kiss her on the cheek.

"We are going home."

"We are?" She looks at him in surprise.

"Did you sleep last night?" He counters and her face instantly warms, as she shakes her head no. "Besides, if Sinclair calls us on it, I have Wicks to blame, right?"

"You've earned it Mac, he'll understand."

They head for the waiting cab, Mac calling Sinclair and then Danny to tell them what has happened and that they'll be in the next day; both having earned the day to rest and finally get some sleep and food. Sinclair did not argue. They finally reach home and as Stella goes to remove her jacket she turns back to see Mac leaning against the door, his eyes misty.

"It's really over, isn't it?" His voice cracks and her heart breaks; her eyes instantly tearing.

"Yes it is."

"Stella, come here."

She rushes to him, takes him in her arms and holds him as his body finally allows itself to break down, expending all the horrendous emotions that Maurice Wicks escape had forced him to keep locked away. They remain locked in each other's embrace for what seems like a slow eternity, before Mac pulls back, cups the sides of her face with his hands and bring her lips to his.

"I love you more than anything," Mac whispers with a hint of torment in his voice. "I know I haven't...no please let me finish," he pauses as her fingers rest on his flushed lips and then pull away, allowing him his confession of gratitude. "I know I haven't let you in as much as I should have but if it wasn't for you, I would be dead, or worse praying for death. God Stella, if you hadn't been looking out that window..." his voice trails off as he swallows hard. "I owe you my life."

"Mac, you are my life," she assures him as she leans in for another kiss. "Whatever force drew me to that window knew that our time together wasn't over yet. It knew you needed me."

"You mean..."

"That's right Mac, I was on the phone with Jessica when I just felt the urge to walk over to the window and look down. I saw you and then called Sully."

Mac looks at her in shock; his mind wanting to kick is ass for being such an insensitive and closed off jerk at times over the past few weeks.

"I almost don't know what to say," he confesses with some guilt.

"Just tell me you love me once more."

"I love you Stella Taylor, you are my life," he tells her as he firmly tastes her mouth once more.

"I think we have earned that sleep now Mac," Stella states with a slightly stifled yawn. She leads him to the bedroom and after shedding a few unnecessary clothing pieces, both snuggle under the warm covers; asleep in minutes.

With Wicks death confirmed for his own eyes, Mac's mind can finally focus on happier things, once again pulling out a happy memory from their wedding, holding onto it and allowing his body to finally get the rest he so desperately was needing.

Stella woke up a few hours later, slowly opening her eyes to see her husband still asleep. She looks at his handsome face and allows her lips a whispered sigh of relief. His flushed lips still slightly pursed, hair mussed and dark lashes resting on warm skin; he's the picture of happy contentment. She closes her eyes, not wanting to wake him at all; he's earned every minute of his rest, they would wash and eat later.

A few hours after that Stella feels Mac's body starting to stir and quickly opens her eyes. She very carefully pushes herself out of the warm nest of covers and heads for the bathroom, wanting to have a shower and wash off before Mac wakes up fully so that he can be next and then they can have a leisurely dinner.

Mac slowly opens his eyes, stretching as he does and thinking that Stella's beautiful face will be greeting him, but instead all he sees is a white pillow devoid of her presence. He lifts his head, slightly cocking it to the right and hears the water running in the bathroom.

He quickly pushes himself from the bed, shedding the few remaining articles of clothing as he heads for the bathroom, arriving naked and ready to be with his wife. He slowly pulls the door open and then instantly feels himself harden as his eyes hungrily devour her naked frame.

He carefully opens the door, forcing her to turn around and greet him with an inviting gaze.

"Hello handsome, I didn't want to wake you," Stella purrs as she welcomes him into the heated space beside her.

"I missed you," he whispers as his hands rest upon her naked hips, his eyes locking with hers. "I hated waking up alone."

"I wanted you to rest and then take your time in here," Stella tries to explain as he leans in closer. "Mac what about your stitches?

"Laying down would do more damage," he states in a husky tone as he pulls her into his chest, his throbbing erection now pressing into her and signaling that he's more than ready to show her how much he needs this sexual union to take place. He gently pushes her up against the side of the warm wall, moving her into position before he finally makes penetration, stifling her gasp of his name with his hungry lips.

His fingers get tangled in damp curls as her fingers gently dig into his back as he thrusts upward once more.

"Mac..."

"I'm okay," Mac assures her after she hears a small gasp from his mouth; his body straining against their heated movements. "I need you..."

Stella's tongue pushes into the warm folds of Mac's mouth, silencing any soft moans that her actions were producing, her pelvic area gripping his tight member and forcing his body to buckle with delight.

"Oh I need you too Mac."

"Gosh I've missed you," Mac breathes in her ear as the tip of his tongue starts to tease the warm, wet flesh, forcing her body to buckle in his grasp and his hands on her lush thighs to tighten as he pushes upward once more.

"Mac..." Stella pants as she leans back a little in his hand that are now supporting her lower back; giving him a full view of her ample breasts, his eyes feasting hungrily as one hand leaves her side and starts to cup a breast.

"Mac..." Stella groans again as their rhythm increases.

"Stella...now," Mac huffs as he pushes back into her with added momentum.

"Not...yet," Stella gasps as her body receives another powerful thrust upward.

"Stella..."

"Now Mac! Yes now," she begs and her wish is fulfilled.

"Stella!" Mac offers her name once more before his body comes to rest on hers, up against the warm tiles his forehead touching hers. "Was I too rough?" He inquires as his fingers push some damp hair off her cheek.

"You were perfect. Did I hurt you in any way?" She wonders as she brings his wet lips in closer to hers.

"You were perfect," he admits with a warm smile as he slowly pulls himself out of her and then rests on the tiles beside her, allowing her loving fingers to gently inspect his slightly throbbing side.

"The wound looks angry Mac."

"It's just a little worn out," he counters with a playful smile. "Trust me Stella, I'm fine and I'm sure Dr. Adams would be very happy to know how they got stretched out.

"Yeah I'll bet!" She chuckles as she grasps the soap. "Now let me get the rest of the day's events off you."

"With pleasure," he replies as he tastes her lips once more before turning around. They last in the water until both are turning a bit wrinkly and then it's time to get out, dry off and enjoy some supper. Mac changes into something to relax in and then heads into the kitchen where Stella is already getting the left over Chinese food warmed up.

They talk about how Don is going to heal; another call that Mac will make to Jimmy, Mac inviting Ron Knight for coffee and the trip they'll be taking the following weekend; a small bed and breakfast in upstate New York, a place to just unwind and relax.

"We hardly ate anything last night so hope you are hungry tonight," Stella warns him with a warm smile as he enters the kitchen and then pulls her into his arms.

"Actually I am very hungry," he admits in truth.

"And for dessert?" Stella arches a brow.

"Didn't know you bought dessert."

"I did and they are fur lined," she teases as she leans in closer and kisses him near his ear. "And that's all you'll be wearing later."

"And what do I get for dessert?" Mac teases in return.

"Lots of night ahead of us Mac. I don't mind sharing."

Mac feels his face instantly warm as he pulls her into his grasp and holds on tightly; letting himself drown in the warm sea of green that calls to him, her actions signaling to him that the night ahead was theirs to explore with no interruptions.

* * *

**A/N:** **OKAY I LIED TO YOU ALL! Lol sorry! Had planned to end it right there but now...**

**...the muse has somewhat recovered after the bad news about our beloved Stella leaving and has decided to write a few more chappies to give this a proper send off instead of a rushed conclusion. **

**Is that okay? Please let me know if you'd like a bit more (a few more chappies max) or to cap here. **


	17. The Man in the Mirror

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 17 - The Man in the Mirror **

* * *

"Are you sure this is okay?" Stella asks as she secures the second fur lined handcuff around Mac's wrist, now keeping his nake frame captive, his firm arms trapped overhead.

"Yes," he answers with a growing smile, his vulnerable body, trapped and ready for her to enjoy to the fullest. Her fingers start to tease one of his hard nipples before moving lower, her actions forcing the skin to instantly blaze with shiver bumps and his stomach to suck in as her fingers move progressively lower.

"Stella," Mac groans as they reach his throbbing erection, his wrists now straining against the adult restraint keeping him in place.

"Just try to relax Mac," Stella sooths as her fingers stroke the firm head before moving lower to his inner thigh.

Mac closes his eyes in delight, his mind racing with erotic thoughts and his lips moaning as she teases his most sensitive area. But when he opens his eyes his lips gasp as he sees Maurice Wicks face looking back with a twisted smile.

_'Time to play Mac!'_

Mac watches in horror as Wicks plunges the knife into Stella's heart, killing her instantly before he's left for Wicks to torment.

_'Gonna enjoy myself first before I kill you like I did her.'_

Mac struggles against the handcuffs that now have become tighter, keeping him trapped. Despite his thrashing, he feels Wicks starting to capture one ankle to the corner, wrapping the rope around it so tightly that he yells in pain as it starts to cut off circulation.

_'HELP ME!' _He yells, no one coming to his rescue.

_'Time for the other one and then you'll be unable to anything but pleasure me.'_

Mac yells out, calling for help as Wicks finishes immobilizing him and then moving in closer to complete the assault. He feels Wicks stuff a cloth into his mouth and then unzip his pants. It's only then that he pulls himself from his horrid nightmare, chest heaving and watery eyes rapidly blinking away frantic tears.

"Mac what is it?" Stella asks in a panic as she reaches for the light. She glances at her husband and frowns heavily, her fingers resting against his forehead.

"Just a...nightmare," he huffs. "Sorry to wake you," he sighs as he slumps back onto the pillow.

Stella looks down with a loving gaze as her fingers rest on his damp t-shirt, her face leaning closer to his and brushing his lips. "Want some cold water?"

"No, I'm okay...just need some sleep," he groans as he beckons her to join him once more.

"Mac..."

"Seriously, Stella, I am okay."

Stella turns off the light and then settles in beside him, her fingers stroking his chest until both of them fall back asleep. However an hour later, Mac's eyes once again snap open as his mind replays the same nightmare once more.

He quickly looks over to see Stella still asleep beside him, soft snores coming from her lips; otherwise she's safe and everything is okay. He glances over the clock and curses, his tired eyes then darting over to the set of furry handcuffs they had used the night before in one of their foreplay sessions.

Mac very carefully removes himself from the bed and wanders into the living room, his heart racing and his head lightly pounding. _Wicks is__ dead, _he keeps reminding himself, unsure of why the nightmares won't subside. _I saw him die, _his brain insists once more. He slowly lays down on the couch, listening to the soft raindrops as they hit the window, hoping the monotonous pinging will lull his brain back to sleep. It doesn't work, instead he finds himself awake, weary eyes staring at the darkness outside, wondering when he'll be released from the mental hell he still finds himself trapped in.

A few hours later and awakened by a thunder burst, Stella opens her eyes to see that Mac's side of the bed is empty, even in the darkness, his profile is not seen. With a small frown furrowing her brow in the darkness, she quickly removes herself from the bed and slowly makes her way toward the living room, pausing to see the outline of her husband sitting up and looking out the window and her heart breaks.

Without a word she heads toward him, knowing that it must have been another horrific nightmare that has him up like this once again; a pattern she is now very familiar with.

"Did I wake you?" Mac wonders in a somber tone, his eyes kept fixed ahead.

"No," Stella answers in truth as she eases herself down onto the couch a few feet from him. "The thunder did."

Mac gives her a small of acknowledgment but doesn't move, silence being allowed to grow. Finally he knows he owes it to her to let her know what is going on. "I still see him Stella. Even now, I glance outside and wonder which window it is he's watching me from...when the phone will ring and his voice will be on the other end."

"Mac it was only a day ago that you watched him die, of course the memories and nightmares will still be fresh."

"I just want them to end," he moans as he allows her hand to intertwine with his, thankful for the heat that their combined flesh is now creating.

"Come here," she entreats, leaning back and allowing Mac's bare chest to rest on her pajama tap, his head on the crook of her shoulder. Her fingers stroke his flushed face while the other just rests on his lightly heaving chest. "Want to go and see Dr. McAllister tomorrow?"

"Don't really want to but I guess it wouldn't hurt," Mac huffs as he feels his body starting to really relax in her grasp.

"Close your eyes and sleep Mac, he can't get you now. I've got you and I'll never let him hurt you again," she whispers as her lips nuzzle his ear. "Just think back to what we did before we fell asleep."

"That was part of the nightmare."

"Oh...sorry," she frowns as she feels his body slightly tense. "It will pass Mac."

"I know," he mumbles in a sleepy tone, once again allowing the feeling of her body pressed up against his to dull his shivers and allow him to fall back into the dark realm of sleep.

Stella reaches for a small blanket and covers his slightly heaving chest, ensuring the warmth they were creating together would remain and that he would at least find some peace for the few remaining hours of darkness. _'That was part of the nightmare...' _he had confessed to her and now her mind feels sorrow that something she thought beautiful and fun was used in his mind to be twisted into something ugly and debilitating.

She'd feel Mac's body twist from another nightmare, but thankfully as she soothes his face and gently massages his damp locks, he doesn't pull himself completely and then settles back into her grasp, his warm lips emitting a heavy sigh.

"I love you Mac," she whispers and feels his body relax completely in her grasp. She finally feels her own eyes starting to get heavy and closes them, their bodies melding together as one until she opens her eyes a few hours later, morning was breaking and Mac was looking up at her with a soft smile.

"Morning," he whispers as he tilts her head to his, lightly straining his neck to brush her lips with his. "I am sorry that I awoke you again."

"We can just take it easy today Mac, it's no big deal," she tells him in truth. "Are you going into work today?"

"I think I need to," he huffs with a heavy frown. "I want to close Maurice's file with my own notes and then be there for the re-sentencing of Franklin Wicks and George Stubbs."

"I guess after his little breakout stunt, there will be even more hell to pay."

"First call Don made yesterday - from home, I might add," Mac pauses to display a soft smile, "was to see who aided Wicks and Stubbs escape. No surprise it was the same prison guard that kept supplying Wicks the phones and the banned photo's."

"Hope they put them all in a cell block surrounded by men they put away," Stella states sourly as her mind tries to erase Wicks haunting words toward Mac when she picked up the phone a few days ago. They make small talk about the day ahead before it's time to get up and get ready; Stella heading for kitchen to start the coffee, Mac heading for the shower.

_Seek help, _the man in the mirror offers Mac as he gazes upon his tired and haggard appearance with a slight scowl.

Even the hot water can't seem to completely calm his nerves, his mind still seeing Wicks face watching him with an evil glint. Part of him wants to slap him up side the head for giving in so easily and the other part, the part that finally wins tells him to go and see Dr. McAllister and just ask how long the nightmares will last. But even then he knows it will be a few months before they are completely gone.

After breakfast, Mac heads into the bedroom to get dressed, leaning against the frame and watching while his wife finishes dressing.

"Love the purple," he mentions, forcing her to look up with a warm smile.

"And I love the blue on you."

"Blue it is," he smiles as he slowly walks up to her.

"Mmm love shower Mac," she says as she kisses him on his freshly shaved cheek. "And smooth Mac," she teases, his lips emitting a soft chuckle as he pulls back and she finishes dressing, accepting one more kiss from him, his lips leaving their mark on the nape of her neck.

Mac goes about dressing, reaching for the blue dress shirt that his wife's words persuaded him to pick out, dresses and the heads into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and then glancing outside into the dismal New York morning. "Rain," he mentions as she comes back up to him.

"Rain makes my hair frizzy," she deadpans and his face softens instantly. Mac flips on the TV to get the rest of the weather forecast and Stella ensures that the breakfast conversation is kept light, knowing that constant reminders of his erratic sleeping patterns as of late would only work to frustrate him more, not helping either of them. However, she did find it very encouraging to know that he said he wanted to drop by to see Dr. McAllister before he started his day.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Stella asks as they ride in the elevator down to the main floor.

"I do want you to but...I think I need to do this on my own," Mac replies carefully, offering her a frown before he turns back. "Just for my own peace of mind."

Stella's hand gives his a squeeze before her fingers leave their current post and take up residence for a few seconds on his face, guiding his mouth to hers and tasting his tempting lips before letting him go once more. "See you later."

"I love you," he tells her in truth as the doors open and they head for the front door. Mac waits until Stella gets into a cab before getting his own and then heading to see Dr. McAllister; already ensuring that there is an opening for him to just drop by and see the doctor.

As he approaches the hallway to Dr. McAllister's office, Mac feels his anxiety starting to build once more and for a brief moment pauses, his brain wanting to turn back and do this another day or time. However, just as he's about to, he hears a familiar voice from behind, stopping his actions.

"Morning Mac, be right with you," Dr. Brent McAllister calls out to him. Mac gives himself a small head shake before he turns around and continues on his way toward Brent's office. He enters the quiet room and feels his stomach automatically tighten; the feeling escalating as soon as Brent enters.

"Please sit Mac and make yourself comfortable."

"Oh I uh can't stay long," Mac gently stammers as he slowly eases himself into the closest chair.

"So how are things?" Dr. McAllister asks, once again wanting to make small talk at first to put Mac's mind and body at ease. Mac goes on to tell him about facing Maurice Wicks and killing him himself, seeing him dead and finally getting closure. But of course worried because the nightmares weren't stopping.

"You watched him die only two days ago Mac, you can't expect it just to be cured because he's dead," Dr. McAllister tries to explain. "Those haunted images might take months before they are completely gone. You even admitted you sometimes have memories about being in the marines, certain events will bring back tormented images. You just need to stop being so hard on yourself," Dr. McAllister finishes on a kinder note.

"I just wish I could get some solid rest and not wake up Stella every few hours. I know she's being kind because she loves me but she's tired and I hate that it's affecting her like this. I wake up every few hours with these nightmares. Even...well even something that we did that was fun has been turned into a nightmare. I need it to stop."

"Again in time it will and I know you hate to hear that because you, much like myself, wanted it to happen right away."

"What happened to your...uh your attacker?"

"Up until a year ago he was just wasting the taxpayers money in jail. But he was involved in a jail house altercation and has since died. I didn't have complete closure as you Mac, mine was dragged out a bit longer in the court system."

"Was it tough?"

"Sometimes I still have nightmares," Dr. McAllister sighs. "You know what works for me? And it might sound funny at first but I downloaded some of those serenity instrumentals, put the earphones in and then fell asleep to them. My brain was soothed by the music and it helped me focus on happy thoughts and the nightmares went away, I think, a lot quicker than if I just left it up to me to try to focus on something on my own."

"I have nothing to lose by trying right?"

"Only your sanity," Dr. McAllister retorts with a smile. "Otherwise, how are you on an intimate level?"

"I guess good," Mac frowns. "I mean last night Stella used a..."

"Oh I don't need the details Mac," Dr. McAllister holds up his hand in haste. "Unless it's a pointer you'd care to share?"

"Uh I...I'm not sure if...I mean it was...well I liked it but..." Mac's voice trails off as Dr. McAllister gently laughs.

"I just wanted to know if sexual intimacy was still a problem?"

"Right," Mac smirks. "Not during the act itself. Just the nightmares that follow."

"And are they all just as bad?"

"No, usually one really bad one and then a few lesser and then I'm okay."

"Eventually there will be nothing else. So now tell me about..."

Mac goes on to explain a bit more about Wicks death and how his brother and their third, accomplice George, were now awaiting a second hearing, Franklin Wicks sentence to be stronger than the first. Mac then tells him about Don and the attack and that his friend and him had made peace and were back on the road to being the close confidants they were before this all started. The team still didn't know and Dr. McAllister agreed that it was probably best as now it could just rest and they could all move on; mostly Mac healing without further personal hindrance.

"Thank you Dr. McAllister," Mac thanks him with a firm handshake as he prepares to leave. "I...well I never expected to have to face...well something like this. But I'm glad that it's you helping me. I feel you understand."

"I do and you're welcome. Drop by sometime just to say hi."

"I will."

Mac leaves Dr. McAllister's office, wanting to drop by Dr. Adams but when he finds out his friend is in surgery, he just leaves his name and then heads for work, his heart settled a bit more and his mind telling him that with Wicks dead each day _should _get easier.

"I wonder how Stella is doing?"

XXXXXXXX

_"And he's okay?" Flack asks in concern._

"He's getting there," Stella sighs as she leans back in her office chair, gazing into the rainy New York morning, talking to Flack on the phone while she waits for Mac to return from his session with Dr. McAllister.

_"Well I'm glad that Wicks is dead. I know Mac's nightmares will end and Franklin and that other loser George will be getting harsher sentences and of course Michael Ryder, the insider who helped them," he finishes with a soft gasp._

"Don?"

_"Just a bit tired. These damn drugs are playing with my stomach and I hate just lying here doing nothing."_

"Yeah I talked to Jessica this morning. She's threatening to ship you to Brazil if you don't behave."

_"She'd do it too, just to spite me," Flack chuckles. _

"Okay well take care and we'll see you soon."

Stella hangs up and then slowly wanders into Mac's office, wanting to put away the files pertaining the Wicks brother's case before her husband returns and has to let his mind dwell further on that ugliness. She spies the CD of pictures and feels her stomach tighten, remembering how violated she felt when she discovered Frankie's web video and then remembering the look on Mac's face when she looked at them with him.

She gets the last file into the box just as Mac appears around the corner and stops to watch. She looks up, feeling her face break into a warm smile before she closes the lid and then rests he her hands on the top.

"It's finally over," she whispers with a soft tone.

"I wish the nightmares would end also."

"They will Mac. How did it go with Brent?"

"He said the same thing you just did. Maybe I should pay you instead of him," Mac smirks as he removes his damp coat and walks up to her, his hands resting on her arms and giving them a small squeeze. "We both know you tolerate me a lot more than him."

"Mac..." Stella starts only to have him lean in and quickly brush her lips with his before pulling back with a slight frown.

"You look tired."

"What?" Stella asks in surprise. "Mac if that was..."

"I know it's because of me, so if you want to take some time and go home early and just...well rest without me there as a hindrance then I don't..."

"Mac, I am not _that _tired," Stella insists.

"I could use work as an excuse. Stella if you are too tired to react or..."

"Are you purposely trying to get rid of me?" Stella arches a brow in wonder.

"I just want what's best for you. Please?"

"I have to finish up a few things Mac."

"Just, think about it," he gently begs as he leans in closer.

"Hey...get a room," Danny teases as he emerges into the doorway.

"Is this work related?" Mac asks with a slight huff.

"Actually...yes," Danny frowns. "But I can come back later."

"Work comes first," Stella lightly pats Mac on the chest and then looks up at Danny with a smile. "And we already had a room," she winks and Mac's face warms as he just shakes his head and watches her take her leave; boxed file still on his desk.

"Nice," Danny grins as he nods to Stella and then looks at Mac, smirking at his boss's flushed expression. "Just a question..." his voice trails off as he hurries toward Mac with an open file. "So here..."

Thankful for the distraction which doesn't allow his mind to dwell too much on his session with Dr. McAllister, Mac heads with Danny toward the evidence room, hoping that Stella takes up his offer and goes home early and gets some rest. He had told himself on the cab ride to the lab that he would try Dr. McAllister's suggestion about the headphones but even then knows if he has a nightmare, Stella will be up with him and once again cause her another restless night.

A few hours pass, both of them kept busy with cases and internal paperwork that by the time Mac takes a much needed break and goes to find Stella, she's gone.

He heads back to his office, spies the yellow sticky note on his monitor and smiles.

_'To my darling husband.__ Went home to rest. See you soon. Love your wife.'_

"My wife," he whispers, always delighting when she uses the title, that and Mrs. Taylor, both of them being equal in his mind for romantic sentimentality. He slumps down into his chair and spies the box that is labeled Wicks and Taylor and feels a small lump starting to develop in his throat and his core warm instantly.

His fingers hover around the lid, human curiosity wanting him to open it and gaze upon the wretched contents one last time. But just as his fingers go to open the lid, he quickly stops himself, reaches for the file, wanting to add his notes and then close the case for good.

_I'll not let them continue to win, _his brain keeps repeating as he quickly works to get his final notes about the fight down on paper, closing the file and then writing the date on it, leaning back in his chair and then turning away from it. He looks outside into the dismal late afternoon and feels his nervous anxiety starting to subside a little. A few weeks ago his life made sense and was just on the regular normal daily track.

But now, he was different, changed for the better Stella had assured him the other day. Of that he wasn't sure but he did know that he was different, he wasn't able to tell himself that he was impervious to anything horrible or ugly, he had nearly experienced the full aspect of that terror. And yet he was one of the fortunate ones. One dead body had proved that and even Dr. McAllister told him that he now would be able to better sympathize with male survivors he would face on cases.

He glances back at the clock, anxious to get home to Stella and try out Dr. McAllister's next musical suggestion in the hopes that it'll help both of them get some solid rest. If that fails, he'll opt to sleep in the spare room and give Stella the chance to get a solid eight hours rest.

He finishes up his last email, gets his coat and then heads for the elevator, telling himself that the following night he'll take her out for dinner, the dinner he had promised her before this whole mess started.

A brief stop at the florist and then a quick cab ride home. Not hearing anything coming from inside their apartment, Mac slowly turns the key, not wanting to wake his wife in case she was sleeping. But as soon as he pushes the door open, he's greeted with the tempting aroma of something baking in the oven and an automatic smile starts to creep across his face.

"Stella?" Mac calls out gently as he heads into the kitchen to put the roses he bought her in a vase.

"Those are amazing Mac," her soft voice purrs from behind, prompting Mac to turn around and look at his wife in awe.

"Wow," Mac manages weakly, his body wanting to harden instantly. He eyes her up and down, starting at her bare legs, traveling upward to the black silk and leopard print teddy she's wearing, her body dusted with a tempting aroma of his favorite perfume. "I uh..."

"You like?"

"Very much."

"Thought I said to _rest_," he teases as he quickly pulls off his suit jacket and tosses it onto a nearby kitchen chair.

"A cat nap does wonders Mac," Stella smiles as she slowly walks up toward him, her fingers lacing behind his neck, her body daring his to make the next move.

"Yeah I can see that," he whispers as he leans in closer, his lips nipping hers and then pulling back, his heart already racing. "I hope dinner won't burn."

"We have time for a little Taylor appetizer," she tempts him further as her tongue gently makes soft trails around his lips, his need skyrocketing as each second passes.

Without any further hesitation, Mac scoops Stella up in his arms, his fingers delighting in the feel of her soft skin, clad in the silky fabric. One hand wraps around his neck, while the other starts to unbutton his dark blue dress shirt, her mouth hungrily latched onto his.

Mac reaches the bedroom, his strong erection already pressing into the dark fabric of his dress pants. He carefully lowers his wife's body to the bed and then tossing his dress shirt and then undershirt aside before he slowly eases himself down on top of her.

Her fingers start to gently dig into his smooth back, his mouth nibbling her neck, forcing her body to arch upward in his grasp.

"Mmm I need you Mac," Stella manages as his fingers start to tease one of her pert nipples, giving it a small, but gentle pinch, her lips gasping at his touch. Her finger work at the waistband of his pants grasping his member and returning the favor, giving it a small but gentle squeeze and forcing a pleasurable moan from his flushed lips.

"Stella..." Mac starts as his fingers continue their quest lower, his mind reeling in the delightful feel of satin that gets more sparse the lower he gets. He reaches her soft section and allows his fingers to linger, loving the feeling of her being ready for him and him alone.

"Mac!" Stella gasps as she finally frees his stiff member, her body begging his for to make their union complete. "Now Mac," she begs once more.

"With pleasure," Mac smiles as he moves himself where need, plunging into her soft, moist sheath, his mind revealing in their sexual connection.

"Feels so..."

"Good..." Mac finishes as he thrusts down into her once more; her body then moving back upward with his. His fingers move back up her satin clad sides, moving to her breast and smiling as his fingers start to play with her ample flesh still hidden beneath the sexy piece of lingerie.

"Love the feel...of this," Mac lightly groans before her fingers gently tug his head downward, his lips now nibbling her neck while her lips nip at his ear.

"Love how you make me feel Mac," she whispers in his ear before the tip of her tongue torments him further.

"Me too," he gasps as her sheath grips his member, sending shockwaves of pleasure down his entire spine and his eyes to close with delight.

Stella's fingers gently slide down his now damp back, digging in as he pushes back down into her with added force, climax starting to near.

"Mac..."

"Just a bit more Stella," Mac gently pants.

"Now Mac...yes now," she instructs with a small gasp, pulling her husbands mouth back to hers and ensuring his next words were garbled b her tongue.

"Stella," Mac groans as he pushes down with faster rhythm.

"Mac...NOW!" Stella growls before Mac offers one last powerful thrust and then comes to rest on her glistening body, the satin fabric now pasted to ever inch of damp skin that it covers.

"You are glowing," Mac mentions as he kisses her salty lips once more.

"Thanks to you," she arches a brow and smiles, their bodies still attached.

"Think we should do this every day before dinner."

"Mac Taylor, are you saying you need a sexual appetizer in order to enjoy my dinner?"

"Would like it very much," Mac smirks as his fingers tenderly stroke her cheek.

"And what if you cook?"

"Then it'll be a quickie. Either that or we'll be very bored," Mac teases, prompting Stella to just roll her eyes. "And dessert?"

"Actually tonight I have something else in mind."

"Such as?"

"Real food," she retorts and Mac just purses his lips. "You'll have to wait and see but you'll like it."

"A hint?"

"You're an active participant."

"Mmm more of this?" He asks with another warm kiss.

"Nope, no more of this."

"What?" He asks with a sudden pout.

"Come on Mr. Taylor, dinner time."

Mac slowly pulls apart from her, both of them just putting on underwear and their robes and then heading into the kitchen to get dinner on the table; the rain still beating down outside as they work away, the TV softly playing in the background.

"So did you manage to put your notes on the file and then close it for good?"

"I did," Mac answers with a slight frown. "All they want is the facts and that is what I put. I wasn't about to add anything personal. Not for them."

"And what did you decide about Franklin Wicks?"

"I am going to be at that hearing tomorrow," Mac answers with a firm expression. "I want to look that bastard in the eye and let him know that he or his brother ever beat me."

Stella's fingers rest on his shoulder and give it a tender squeeze of assurance. "I'll be right there with you Mac."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Mac answers as he twists his head and offers a quick peck to her lips and then pulls back with a smile. "Got a message from Don also."

"Yeah I talked to him. He's still angry he's stuck at home," Stella chuckles. "But mostly wanted to know how you were doing with all this."

"And you told him..."

"You were okay. As much as we both love and trust Don as a friend, I know our intimate details are for us. He figured you'd have nightmares but that's normal right? The rest of the team still doesn't know and even Jessica doesn't know the full details. So you don't have to worry about anyone looking funny at you."

"Except me," Mac huffs as he slowly sits down at the table.

"That feeling will last for a bit yet Mac. I mean after my...well situation with Frankie, I could hardly stand to look at myself in the mirror. Kept seeing those ugly battered images of myself," her voice dies out softly.

"Sorry," Mac frowns as his fingers quickly close around hers, her hand held securely in his. "Didn't mean to bring those memories up for you again."

"They helped me remain strong Mac and a memory can't kill you right?" She asks lightly.

"Not when I have an amazing partner like you at my side."

Stella accepts his warm words of commendation and then changes the subject to something lighter for dinner, not really wanting to fill her mind with memories of Frankie or what Mac had to endure. They had both been through a lot and now it was time to move on and heal.

After dinner Mac does the dishes while Stella cleans up and then disappears into the living room. A few minutes later, Mac emerges from the kitchen to see her seated on the couch on one end, his bass guitar on the other and quickly clues in to what she was referring to earlier.

He slowly wanders into the living room and then looks down at her with a smile.

"Missed hearing you play for me," Stella tells him in truth. "Thought it would be a nice way to end the night."

"Would love to play for you," Mac replies as he settles into the couch, bass in hand. "Any requests?"

"I think you know the song."

"This love is forever?" Mac arches his brows.

"Our wedding song," Stella confirms with a nod.

Mac starts into the cords, Stella's heart settling and her mind delighting in watching her husband slowly unfold from his tension and just enjoy the moment. She feels her body unwinding completely as she listens to the next song, her mind almost jealous the way his hands skillfully hold the musical instrument, wishing it was her body in his grasp.

He looks up and gives her a soft smile, her lips parting to smile in return and her stomach tightening; not from anxiety but from love and devotion. She knows he still carries some guilt with him and will have nightmares until he's able to completely force Maurice Wicks from his mind, but also knows that he'll be the stronger and better man for it; he faced the devil and defeated him on his own terms. Nothing could best Mac Taylor now; his shield was in tact once again.

Mac watches Stella's body gently moving to the rhythm of his playing, his mind offering whispers of delight at the knowledge that his music is creating a loving haven for them both. He had at one time during this whole ordeal wonder if he'd be able to get back to just enjoying the things he did before, but tonight he had laid those fears to rest.

Just one more hurdle to overcome sleeping through the night.

"Thank you my love," Stella whispers as she plants a firm kiss on his mouth just as the last session comes to an end. "Will this become a habit once again?"

"Yes," Mac answers in truth as he slowly puts his bass back into its case and then looks up at her with a slightly perplexed gaze.

"What is it?"

"Dr. McAllister told me to try something new for sleeping tonight."

"What is it?" Stella asks as they head toward the bedroom.

"Well I downloaded a bunch of relaxation tunes," Mac informs her as he retrieves the iPod from their dresser. "Is it okay to fall asleep with these on?"

"Try it and see. Mac you know the nightmares just need time right?"

"Stella for the past few weeks you haven't gotten any sleep, I'm used to that."

"You are doing this for me?" She asks weakly and he nods, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers bringing his mouth to hers. "I never thought it possible to love you more."

Mac's lips curl upward instantly as his arms wrap around her waist. "Do you want me to sleep in the other room? I don't mind, I just want..." Mac starts only to be silenced by another firm kiss from his wife; Stella pulling back a few breathless minutes later.

"We'll go through this together Mac," she assures him as she takes the iPod from the top of the dresser and hands it back to him. "I just want you with me."

"Okay," Mac nods in confirmation. They both get into bed, Mac arranging the iPod and the music and presses play, setting the list on repeat so that it'll carry him through the night. At first the sensation of knowing Stella is beside him but not being able to hear her, sends his heart aflutter until he feels her body snuggle closer to his, her lips kissing his cheek and his mind starts to settle once more.

He closes his eyes, trying to get his brain to cooperate like the rest of his body. But then something else takes over. The music starts to remind him of their honeymoon in Greece and soon happy images of their first few nights as Mr. and Mrs. Taylor start to consume his thoughts and the night seems promising.

However, a few hours in, another nightmare awakens him, but thankfully not as vile as the night before and not as frequent. He quickly adjusts the sound and then settles back to sleep, not awaking until it's time to get up.

_Operation iPod _was a success.

Mac carefully sets the small musical device down on the bedside dresser and then turns to see Stella watching him.

"Well?" Stella asks softly as her fingers caress his face.

"You tell me."

"Just felt you awaken once. And me?"

"Slept most of the night and look refreshed," Mac smiles as he leans in closer. "Thank you."

"I love you Mac, no need to thank me."

"Yes there is," he tells her seriously. "I never want to take you for granted."

"Doubt that's possible Mac."

Their lips lock for an early morning kiss, the heat flowing between them in seconds.

"Want a shower for two?" Mac arches his brows.

"Thought you'd never ask," Stella answers in haste.

Mac pushes himself out of their bed and heads for the bathroom, glancing briefly at the refreshed man looking back at him in the bathroom mirror.

"Back on track," the man in the mirror smiles back at him. "Just like you were before - only better."

Mac gives himself a nod and then reaches for the hot water, telling himself that today was going to be a good day with an amazing start and an even better finish.

* * *

**A/N:** I know these last few will be fillers, but hope they aren't boring. Mac faces Franklin & George next and Dr. Adam makes a surprise call. two more packed chapters come so please leave me a note before you go. Thanks again.


	18. New Friends, New Understandings & New Be

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 18 - New Friends, New Understandings & New Beginnings**

* * *

"Oh Mac..." Stella gasps as her head lolls back, her body arching into his grasp as their sexual rhythm starts to increase, the hot water dancing around their gyrating frames.

"Stella..." Mac groans as her body pushes his back against the wall the same time he thrusts into her.

"Yes Mac...now!" She manages a little breathlessly, prompting her husband to push into her one last time, climax finally reached.

Mac's body rests on the warm wet tiles, his faced flush and damp and core on fire. "We'll have to wake up early every morning."

"It was all the energy we got from a good night's sleep," Stella smirks as she slowly pulls apart and then fixes Mac's wet hair into a small faux-hawk. "Mmm very sexy indeed."

"All that energy has left you playful this morning," he teases as he pulls her back against his firm naked chest, gazing lovingly into her fiery green eyes.

"Very," she kisses the top of his nose and then pulls back.

"Ah my turn," Mac snatches the soap from her hands first, gesturing to her to turn around.

"My pleasure," Stella grins as she complies, delighting in the feeling of Mac's strong hands as they tenderly massage her smooth skin with the fragrant soap. They talk about the day ahead, Stella doing everything to avoid the topic of their upcoming getaway.

She had already talked to Sinclair and he even agreed that after all Mac had been through it was time for a break, even a week away wasn't going to be enough. Stella was grateful saying that if they wanted to stay longer, they'd send him a postcard. That didn't go over too well, so a week away would have to do. But as she knew it was going to be just a week of relaxing it would be worth it.

"So what is on the agenda for today?" Stella inquires as they head into the kitchen to get their coffee travel mugs.

"I got a message yesterday from Ron Knight so I thought after the hearing for Franklin Wicks I'd call Ron and meet him for coffee," Mac tells her as he fills his cup.

"Sounds like a good idea Mac. I liked him."

"Yeah he was an honorable man, well for the most part."

"You trusted him with your life Mac," Stella reminds him as her hand rests on the small of his back. "That's all that counts. What time is the hearing again?"

"First thing," Mac huffs as he looks at her in anxiety. "After today I am done with them."

"Me too."

They get their coats and head outside, the Avalanche waiting for their use from the night before. The ride to the courthouse was spent mostly talking about any further fallout from all this, wondering who else inside that part of Rikers was going to be affected by the Wicks brothers now being taken out of commission.

They reach the courtroom only to watch as the chief Judge heads their way.

"Milton," Mac greets with a tense handshake.

"Morning Stella. Mac you didn't have to be here for this," Judge Barrows tells him in a low tone. "The evidence agasint them is without question and won't be shown again, there is no need."

"I appreciate the discretion," Mac replies with a tight lipped smile. "But I have to face them, for my own peace of mind."

"Fair enough," the older man nods before he turns and heads into his small back office. Since it wasn't going to be a public hearing, Mac told himself it wouldn't be as bad as if it was a packed room, all eyes seemingly on him. However, as soon as he enters and takes his seat, he feels his agitation starting to build; racing skyward as soon as Franklin Wicks and George Stubbs are brought in.

Mac had only learned the day after Maurice Wicks death that George was also in the van but was recaptured shortly after escape so no formal bulletin was put out on him.

Mac watches the two men enter, feels his stomach wanting to lurch when George looks at him and winks before licking his lips and then snickering before he whispers something to Franklin and he turns and smiles at Mac also.

Stella just glares at them, not wanting to ask Mac if he's okay, not wanting to give them anything more to fuel their sordid thoughts.

"Morning Detective Taylor," George greets Mac from a few rows up. "Am flattered you came."

Knowing that whatever he offers in return will only be twisted and cause him further anxiety, he only gives them a small nod but keeps his expression firm and placid. When he sees they get nothing from him in return to use, both offer a small grumble and turn back, Mac's mind giving a whispered victory cheer.

However, that is short lived because for the few minutes they are alone before the judge comes in, they both talk to one another, whispering and then looking back with twisted smiles.

"Damn bastards," Mac utters in a low breath.

"They want you to get riled up Mac," Stella whispers when she feels his hand tighten in hers.

"I know," Mac whispers in return, his body starting to feel warm and his head a bit light. Judge Barrows finally enters and all attention is soon focused on the stern man behind the solid oak desk. He starts into his strong lecture, coming down the hardest on former fellow justice Franklin Wicks and then turning his attention over to George.

Mac feels a small triumphant smile starting to tug at his lips when Franklin's extended sentence is read and then George's is also handed down; no room for appeal or parole for many many years. Neither would have access to a computer or phone for some time and Mac hopes during that time he will have faded from their memories and they'll have sought their sordid fantasies elsewhere.

Sadly he also knows that with them in jail instead of dead like Maurice, they'll now just seek out new lives to destroy so in reality no one was a winner, and any kind of peace of mind was just a thin veneer that hope was hiding behind. The only rehabiliation for monsters like this was the same as Maurice Wicks - death.

As soon as it was over Mac stands up, facing both men who had tried to destroy his dignity and then ultimately his life, his stance never wavering and his posture never weakening as both men stare back.

"See you around Taylor," Wicks calls out with a smirk. "At least in my mind. And you know what I can do to you in my mind!

"Sticks and stones Franklin," Mac retorts firmly. He watches the guards file them out before he turns to Stella, the back of his neck slightly damp.

"You survived," she states softly as she notices a small look of panic in his eyes as he watches the two men finally disappear from his sight for which he hopes will be the last time ever.

"I managed," Mac frowns as he looks at her with slightly flushed face. "Shall we go?"

"Just rest a few minutes Mac, your face is flushed and I'm sure your heart racing."

"Almost light headed," he huffs as they both slowly sit back down. "I keep hearing their voices laughing at me while uh...never mind."

"But you are fighting them Mac, you are winning."

"Don't feel it right now."

"Well you just saw them. I mean even Superman had to take a few extra minutes to recover from his encouters with Kryptonite," she whispers as her lips graze his cheek. "Give yourself a break Mac."

"I guess," he looks up with a slight frown, staring at their empty seats and praying for his heart rate to return to normal. They sit in acknolwedged silence for a few moments longer until Mac looks at her and nods.

"You sure?"

"I can't sit here and allow their ugly words to immoblize me. It's what they want."

"You are my Superman," she mentions lightly and his lips burst into a soft smile. "Come on Mac, let's go. A change of scenery does wonders," she quips.

"You're right," he pushes himself up and extends his hand to which she eagerly takes.

"Are you going to meet Ron?" Stella inquires as they head for the exit doors.

"No, _we _are going to meet Ron," Mac quickly corrects.

"You don't need me there Mac."

"I want you there Stella."

"I think this time, I'm going to meet you back at the lab."

"Why?"

"Because I have already said what I need to to him and I want you to have some privacy. Mac the man basically helped save your life, you need this alone time with him," she whispers as she leans in and kisses his cheek. "I'll see you back at the lab."

"Okay," Mac agrees as his lips curl slightly upward. He watches her go and then heads down the street in the direction of the small coffee shop where he told Ron Knight he'd meet him.

Mac enters the small establishment and feels his nervousness starting to skyrocket. The last time he saw Ron was when Ron pulled him from Maurice Wicks clutches in the library and was then left with prison doctor. He heads for a small table and then sits down, glancing up just as Ron Knight enters the coffee shop, the older man smiling at him as he nears.

"Ron."

"Mac."

Both of them greet each other, Mac offering his hand but Ron pulling Mac into his grasp for a brief but welcoming hug. Mac pulls back slightly embarrassed, but when he notices that not too many eyebrows were raised he feels his anxiety settle once more as he sits back down to face Ron.

"So uh..." Mac starts in a nervous tone, not really sure now what to say to his would be helper.

"I see you are still nervous around me," Ron chuckles as he leans back in his chair.

"It's just that...well the last time we talked..."

"I left you with that doctor and then all hell broke loose."

"Yeah...sorry about that."

"Why sorry? Heard you took that bastard down," Ron smiles as he pats Mac's arm. "Woulda done the same myself if I was there."

"I never really got to thank you for your help in Rikers."

"Terrible place for a young fella like you," Ron frowns. "Heard from Detective Flack that you actually volunteered for that."

"Obviously against my better judgment," Mac huffs as he finally leans back in his chair also, some of his tension starting to ease.

"Well I guess we all have stories like that. Comes with being a soldier right?"

"Instilled in us from birth."

"We are a damn sorry bunch, ain't we? But then if we didn't do what we do, we know more would suffer."

"I couldn't have him continue to destroy like that. I mean those men, I know they were..."

"You don't have to justify yourself to me Mac. I'm still proud of you," Ron smiles proudly. "Just sorry I wasn't there to help you kick his ass myself. Woulda liked to get at least a few rounds with him."

"I know it sounds callous but I'm not sorry he's dead."

"Nor should you be. He was evil and the only way to cure evil is to kill it," Ron states firmly. "But um...well can I ask what happened after I was taken away by Wicks? What did he do? I heard it was a hell of a fight and...well your wife didn't offer too much when I talked to her."

"She knows everything now."

"Good."

"There were three of them; the three we suspected. He had me in a tight bind and uh...well he never got to finish the job completely."

"Well that is some comfort. Gave you a scare though right?"

"Can sometimes still feel his hands on me."

"Damn it," Ron curses as he looks at Mac in concern. "But you got your life back right? With a few new notches under your belt?"

"Some bigger than others."

"Well we both know that time doesn't heal all wounds but..."

"It helps us learn to deal with them," Mac answers with a nod of understanding. "So how are things for you? I'm happy that everything worked out for you."

"Wouldn't be a free man right now without you," Ron smiles. "My wife and family thank you also. Here...me and Bronson," Ron states as he pulls out his wallet and shows hands Mac a small picture of Ron and his grandson. "You keep it. As a reminder of a life you helped save."

"Thank you," Mac replies as he looks at the picture of the older man, standing beside the young boy who is holding up a medium sized fish.

They make small talk a bit longer, mostly about Ron's family and what he's going to spend his time doing, no longer needing to dwell on Maurice Wicks. The initial bond they shared was because of Wicks, but not the future they would share together as friends. Wicks was gone, he could no longer infect them with his ugliness. They had won.

"Take care Mac," Ron gives him a brief hug once more. "Gotta cure you of your hug phobia," Ron snickers, forcing Mac's face to slightly flush with embarrassment.

"Stella says that also. Maybe it's a public thing."

"Want to go someplace private?" Ron smirks and Mac just shakes his head. "Take care young man."

"You too Ron," Mac replies as he watches the older man finally take his leave and get into a waiting cab and is gone, Mac finally following suit and then heading back to work. He arrives to find his team busy as expected, Danny and Lindsay just heading out for a case and Sheldon and Jessica already on the scene of one; Stella and Adam working in the lab, Stella wanting to be back when Mac returned.

Mac finishes his paperwork, set to go and see Stella when he looks up and see Flack hovering in the doorway, dressed casually and watching him with a smile.

"Hey Mac," Flack greets as he slowly walks into his office and then eases himself down into a forward facing chair. His body still carries the telltale signs of the crash, including a painful gasp that he emits when he finally settles in.

"You okay?"

"Was sick of staying at home. And you? Heard you went to Franklin Wicks hearing today."

"Just had to look that monster in the eye and show him that I wasn't afraid."

"And were you?"

"A little," Mac admits as he looks at his friend with a heavy frown. "The panic attack that followed wasn't that noticeable but to know that...well that they saw...well what they saw of me just is..."

"Unnerving?"

"To say the least," Mac's lips emit a heavy sigh. "But they have restrictions now and..." Mac pauses and allows some silence to build.

"What is it?" Flack asks in haste.

"I guess just knowing that they can still do those things and..."

"No way Mac, they are both going to be monitored now."

"Do you really believe that Don? That all this will now end with them behind bars? That jsut like that they'll be cured of their vile addiction?"

Flack looks at him and feels his brow furrow deeply. "Wishful thinking right?"

"I guess it's better than nothing."

"And the nightmares?" Flack inquires kindly.

"They are starting to subside. I guess I want them gone right now and it doesn't work that way."

"Yeah I guess we got that in common," Flack sighs. "And are we..."

"Are we what?"

"Well I know you tell me you don't blame me but..."

"Blaming you was never an option Don, ever. I blamed myself and Maurice Wicks but not you. It was my idea in the first place right?"

"You and your bright ideas," Flack smirks. "And now?"

"Now I just try to move past this with some new life experience and try not to let it eat away with me when I'm confronted with something like that again."

"Stella will help."

"I don't deserve her."

"That's none of us," Flack smiles. "Thought you two were going away?"

"She hasn't brought it up, so maybe it's not a good time right now. We'll see, I don't want to force her or anything."

Flack and Mac talk a bit more about Jimmy and Drew until Stella arrives, and then all three continue for a bit longer until Flack finally takes his leave, joining Jessica by her desk and then heading for home.

"How did it go with Ron?" Stella inquires when they are finally alone.

Mac pulls out a picture of Ron and his grandson and hands it to Stella. "Says I'm part of the family now."

"Your father would be proud of you Mac," Stella gently praises as she looks at the picture and then back up at her husband and smiles.

"I think he and Ron would have had a lot in common. Except of course for the grandkids but..." his voice trails off as he looks at Stella and notices her quizzical expression. "Oh sorry I uh...that was out of line right?"

"It's the truth Mac, why out of line?"

"Well I know we talked about not having kids and..."

"Mac, I'm not mad."

"Good. Otherwise it was okay. We talked about what happened and then about his death and...just things I guess."

"And was it awkward?"

"It was when he hugged me," Mac quips, prompting Stella to giggle.

"Yes you and your man hugs."

"It's just not normal."

"Well trust me, Ron Knight has no ulterior motives for wanting to touch you Mac," she assures him.

"I know...it was just odd."

"I'm glad you came into his life Mac and I'm sure he's glad you did also. Plus it's kinda nice to have another older man around."

"Another?" Mac arches his brows.

"Oh you know Sid adopted you long ago!"

"Now Sid scares me. But Ben is a good friend," Mac smirks.

"Yes he is."

"So dinner? I did promise it was my turn to buy right?"

"Mac..."

"Stella I want to. We haven't had a dinner out in weeks. And I feel that it's my turn to treat you for once."

"Could never say no to you. But dessert is on me."

"Literally?" Mac counters just as the phone rings.

_"Mac?__ Is this a bad time?"_

"No Ben, what's up?"

_"I am wondering if you can come down here and help me with something."_

"Is everything okay?" Mac asks in haste, drawing a wondering glance from Stella.

_"Yes, I just need your help."_

"Can Stella come too? We were just about to head out?"

_"Sure. Can you leave now?_"

"Is it that serious?"

_"Mac, please?"_

"On my way."

"What was that all about?" Stella asks in haste as she watches Mac stand up and reach for his suit jacket.

"Ben needs my help but didn't say with what. Do you know about this?"

"No," she shrugs in truth. "Did he sound stressed?"

"He sounded anxious," Mac informs her as he follows her to her office. Stella gets her coat and then follows him back into the hallway and then into the elevator, both of them wondering what Dr. Adams would possibly want Mac's help with.

"I'll drive."

"You just want to use the lights."

"Well he sounded urgent," Mac answers sheepishly as they get into the Avalanche. True to his word Mac uses the lights to get them to the hospital a little faster than a normal cab or just being stuck in evening dinner traffic. They enter the hospital and Mac feels his heart start to beat faster. What does he want? My help? Is this to do with me personally? What ifhis mind swirls with a bunch of unanswered questions as they near Dr. Adams area in Emergency.

"Jenny is he around?" Mac asks Dr. Adams nurse.

"He's expecting you Detective Taylor. Stella is it alright if you wait here? Don't worry it's nothing about you two," Jenny tells them in haste when they exchange worried glances.

"Sure if that's what's best."

"Be right back," Mac assures her.

Mac follows Jenny into the ER, his mind starting to flash images of himself being brought in to see Dr. Adams just after he was rescued from Maurice Wicks. He sees Dr. Adams walking up to him with a worried expression and immediately his stomach tightens once more.

"Ben what is it? What's going on?"

"Come with me Mac," Dr. Adams instructs as he gently ushers Mac toward a small back area. Mac notices a uniformed police officer standing outside a small room and then looks at his friend in wonder. But just before he can say something he's taken a small room that Dr. Adams uses and the door is closed.

"Ben what is..."

"Mac please sit..."

"Tell me what the hell is going on?" Mac asks sharply and then calms down. "Sorry, bad memories coming into this place."

"Well it's about those memories that I need to talk to you about."

"But I thought that was all over."

"I need your help and I now feel that you are the best person I can turn to with this."

"This?"

"I need your discretion and knowledge Mac."

"Did something happen to you? Were you um...assaulted?"

"No, not me. But someone you might know."

"What?"

"Just like you wanted only me to look at you when you came in here, this person needs help."

"Tell me what happened?"

"He was off duty and was attacked by three men. He was subdued and..."

"Was he assaulted?"

"He was Mac, all the way. He wasn't spared anything," Dr. Adams explains with a heavy frown.

"Why me?"

"Jared is actually teaching a survival session tonight and my on call male sexual assault examiner is sick. I have performed the initial examination, I just need you to process. He won't let me take anything and insists on having everything burned and a shower to wash it all away. His partner says he thinks he knows at least two but you know..."

"If we get the evidence then we can confirm the bastards who did this and put them away."

"You can still say no Mac, I won't think less of you."

"But you also know that I know how to deal with this now and..."

"What to look for and where," Dr. Adams finishes. "He doesn't want a woman and I'm sure you can guess why."

"Married?"

"With a young son," Dr. Adams answers. "I don't know how the rest of your day went but...well if this is too much of a stress just tell me right now. You know I care about you Mac, and I don't want to give you anything more to stress about."

"My day was...it was okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I...I want to help."

"Mac, are you sure?"

"The more of these creeps we can put behind bars the better."

"Was hoping you'd say that. Trust me this won't become a regular habit because Jared is regular but..."

"But if you need my help you can always count on me."

"I always have been able to Mac," Dr. Adams states confidently as he stands up. "We'll go when you are ready."

"I just have to process right?"

"I have already taken the necessary samples from his..."

"Right I get it," Mac cuts him off with a slight frown, Dr. Adams offering a slight smirk.

"It won't take too long. Come with me. And Mac..."

"Yeah?"

"Just like Brent, no one needs to know if you don't want them to."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that man in there doesn't need to know anything about you. You are in control."

"Thank you."

Mac removes his coat and suit jacket, leaving them in Dr. Adams now locked room and follows after his friend. Never in his life would he have imagined that he would now have the inner knowledge to not only help a fellow officer cope with this ordeal but be able to actually say he knows at least part of what he's feeling and that he's not alone.

Mac reaches the closed door and then nods to the officer standing outside; a man that he sort of recognizes but doesn't know fully.

He pushes the door open and stares into the scared face of Officer Derek Green, a beat cop with only a few years experience, seeing himself in that same spot only a few weeks ago. Derek, who's lying on his side, looks up with an anguished expression.

"What...do...you want..." he barely manages.

"I want to help you," Mac states in a warm tone as he slowly closes the door.

* * *

**A/N:** Well one more to go and hope that's okay and you are still liking this story. Happy ending up next! :D

**PS:** Have also updated NY Stories if you are reading that one. Thanks


	19. A New Chapter Begins

**Title: Altered States  
****Chapter 19 - A New Chapter Begins**

**A special thank you to the following: StellaBonaseraTaylor; SMackedFan; CSI-ncis; phantom of the mental ward; blackrose538; Totorsg; snowangel-983; HoshiHikari; theirlastsavinggrace; Smacked-FLangell-DLBound; smacked-for-life; MARNIC; Penelope charmosa; rocksmacked; Wildweasel; jaamiee; snow6835; stardust585; shineleia; kaidii; catulicious; x-natalie-x; poet11...**

**If I have forgotten anyone and you reviewed on a regular basis then I am sorry I missed. I only went back a couple chapters and the last chapter some reviews had dropped. Sorry if you were bored but here is the ending and hope you all like it!**

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"Are you um...you look familiar."

"I'm Detective Taylor and I'm here to help."

"I don't want your help!" Derek shouts as he closes his eyes, a few tears escaping. Mac quickly grabs a nearby Kleenex and hands it to him. Derek opens his brown eyes and looks at Mac in wonder.

"Is your wife coming?"

"She can never see me like this!" Derek snaps as he snatches the Kleenex away and starts to rub his eyes, making them burn further.

"I know you think that but..."

"You have no clue what the hell I am thinking right now!"

"I uh...I know this is hard but I have it on good word from your partner that we can use the DNA to..."

"I just want to die," Derek's voice dies to a soft whisper as he hangs his head low.

Mac looks down at the scared young man, covered with the hospital sheet and sees himself on the table, Dr. Adams looking down as he said the same things a few weeks back.

"I did at one time also," Mac remarks in a kind tone as he pulls up a chair and then sits almost eye level with Derek Green. "I just want to help and no I'm not going to touch you where you don't want to be touched okay."

"The doctor he um...he already did that."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No..._they _did."

"Help me get them Derek. Help me put those bastards away who did this to you. Let me help you get your life back."

"IT'S OVER!" Derek shouts with a ragged gasp before he starts to cough and then curse angrily. "Sorry."

"Don't be, you need to let it out. Trust me it's not good to keep it inside."

Mac feels part of his brain wanting to scold him for being an early hypocrite for he did just that, kept it all bottled inside until he was forced to take drastic action to help himself. Ben knew he needed this and although he wants to curse his friend for sending him into such a situation so soon, he knows that the longer he stays away from things like this, the harder it will be to face them when he does have to.

He was needed here. And he was needed now.

"I just need to take your nails and...you know this right Derek?"

"I uh...I can't do this."

"I promise I won't hurt you and I'll talk you through everything I'm going to do. But if this is analyzed tonight we can make a fresh arrest and get them off the streets before they do this again."

"My wife...my son...they'll hate me."

"No they won't, they will never hate you," Mac tries to assure him. "I know you are scared but you also know the law right? Please Derek, it won't take too long."

"My life...is over right?"

Mac gently rests his hand on the trembling man's shoulder and sighs, trying to blink away his own face looking up and asking that vey question.

"Your life is far from over. You just have something new to face and trust me, you will survive. Please Derek, I swear I am not going to hurt you, I just want to help before it's too late."

Derek finally nods before he numbly sticks his dirty and bloodied fingers out from the sheet and tries to keep them steady as Mac starts to process. Mac feels his heart continue to break over and over as the young man just sheds silent tears, his nearly naked body trembling beneath the hospital sheet, his uniform already in an evidence bag ready to be taken back to the lab to be processed.

Derek's body continues to flinch whenever Mac reaches for a new area to examine. "Don't you um...you know have to look..."

"Dr. Adams said he already processed a uh..."

"Rape..." Derek sobs.

"Yes a rape kit. Sorry. I don't have to...well look there again."

"Okay," Derek nods. "What now?"

"Well now that I have everything I need," he nods toward the bags on the floor. "I guess Dr. Adams can now..."

"No to me...what happens to me?"

Mac pulls his chair back and eases himself down with a heavy sign, casting an earnest glance in Derek's direction. "You are going to have a shower, wash their filthy touch and smell off your body. You are going to sleep here tonight...well probably not sleep...and then go home tomorrow and start the healing process."

"I can't..."

"Yeah we tend to think like that. You'll have nightmares and um...stuff," Mac smirks. "I'm not a shrink, sorry. But you should find someone to talk to."

"Can't do that...can't talk to anyone...no one can ever know."

"I said that too," Mac admits, forcing Derek to look at him in shock. "Trust me Derek, you will survive all this and come out stronger than before."

"Sounds good."

"Well my wife told me that," Mac's lips slightly curl upward. "You are going to make it. I'll take this evidence and your partner is waiting to take it to the lab to process. We'll get these guys Derek, it's a promise."

Mac stands up to leave, pushing the chair back and then looking back down at Derek Green. "Just rest okay?"

"Detective Taylor?"

"Yeah."

"Thank...you."

"Take care," Mac squeezes his shoulder once more before slowly opening the door, taking out the evidence and then heading for the nearest entrance to get some fresh air, Dr. Adams in tow. Mac slams through the doors, gasping for air and then leaning against the wall with a racing heart.

"You okay?" Dr. Adams asks softly, gently touching Mac's shoulder.

"I...I will be," Mac huffs as he keeps his eyes closed, praying for his head to stop pounding.

"I'm sorry Mac," Dr. Adams apologizes.

"No, that young man needed a sympathetic...well examiner I guess..."

"Brought back painful memories?"

"Saw myself in there. Did you do that on purpose?"

"If I thought you unable to handle it Mac, I wouldn't have called in the first place. As I said before you are one of the most strongest and bravest men I am proud to know and call friend."

"The nightmares still haven't left completely."

"Mac, each time you help or talk to another survivor like Derek, they will come back. Remember when Wendy and I lost our son. Even now...to this day, when I hear of a child that arrives stillborn, my mind flashes back so many years ago. I see myself in that room, watching helplessly knowing that even with all my medical knowledge and experience that I was unable to help save him, my son, I was unable. Unable to bring him back, hearing my wife scream and cry, feel the pain even now, knowing that I would never have children, what it did to her, to us, to never be blessed with that gift. Never have my own grandchildren. Some pain never heals Mac, you know that."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you live by the adage that whatever doesn't kill you..."

"Simply makes you stronger," Mac finishes with a firm expression.

"I am now able to comfort those that have experienced what I have, just as you can. That's why I called you. The sooner you realize that you are not alone, you are not unique in this instance, that you have the knowledge, compassion and the strength to help others, the faster you'll be able to tell those nightmares to go to hell," Dr. Adams finishes on a lighter note, prompting Mac to look at him with a tender smile.

"I'm not mad," Mac admits as he finally straightens up.

"You're like a son to me Mac," Dr. Adams tells him. "I only want what's best for you."

"I wish I could do more."

"You were here when needed, that's a start. Now come on, Stella is waiting right?"

"Damn she's probably..."

"I told her."

"And?"

"And she said it's a good thing you're buying," Dr. Adams smiles as he pats Mac on the back, both of them heading back into the warm confines of the ER. "Have a goodnight Mac."

"I'll keep in touch Ben."

"Please do."

Mac offers his friend one last smile and hug before he hurries back into the waiting area where his patient wife was waiting.

During the past hour, Stella had nervously paced the ER waiting area, having been told by Dr. Adams what Mac was doing. She had wondered how he was holding up, probably seeing himself on that table and now wonders if he'll have more nightmares to contend with. Or did Dr. Adams actually know what he was doing in summoning him this soon?

She looks up to see him approaching, her heart lightly seizing as she notices his flushed face and tense posture. She puts on a brave smile as he walks up to her with his coat draped over his arm. She wraps her arms around him, kissing his cheek and just holding him close, not seeing Dr. Adams watching with a proud smile; the children he never had but loves more than anything.

"You okay?" She asks softly as she pulls back and looks at him in concern.

"I will be," Mac replies as he puts on his coat and they head for the main entrance to go back outside. "At first I was angry with Ben for suggesting it to me but...but now I see I am not alone and I guess knowing I could actually be called upon to help because I know, well at least a bit of what that young man has endured has helped them and me."

"He knew you'd be strong enough to face those demons Mac. Just like you proved this morning when you faced Franklin and George. They never really beat and you allowed yourself to see that. Just like when I worked that domestic abuse case after Frankie. I needed to do it for myself."

"And you did and won," Mac states with pride.

"Ben knew you could do it and I am grateful. He knows us well Mac, he's been friends with us for a long time."

"I would only do it for him."

"So what do want me to make when..."

"Stella we are still going for dinner. I'm buying remember?"

"After that? Mac I don't mind," Stella tries to insist. "You have had one hell of an emotional roller coaster of a day."

"I know but...but I guess helping that young man in there made me want to just get past this and really move on. Able to help others and not be a hindrance to anyone."

"You never were," Stella's hand squeezes his as they get into a nearby cab. Mac gives the driver the address to their favorite Greek restaurant and then both settle in for the ride there.

"I called Sheldon and he's going to process the evidence right away. Maybe we can get these guys; clear more of them off the street."

"Thanks to you."

"Stella, I only..." he starts only to have Stella brush his lips with her, flooding his face with warmth, followed by a smile.

"Dr. Adams told me had no one else and that he might have missed something and that young officer didn't want his partner. If you weren't able to help, the evidence might have been either lost or compromised. It was thanks to you Mac."

"He has a hard battle ahead of him. I mean I only experienced...well part and he...all of it."

"If his wife is anything like yours, he'll be fine," Stella states proudly, making Mac's lips instantly curl upward.

"No one is like my wife," Mac compliments as he leans in and kisses her back. "I love you more than anything."

"I love you too Mac," Stella answers as the cab finally comes to a stop.

They both get out and head inside, opting for a small private booth near the back so they can just concentrate on each other, away from the noisier distractions near the front.

"Happy that Don is on the mend," Stella mentions.

"And that both Franklin Wicks and George Stubbs have now been transferred upstate."

"And tonight you'll use the iPod again and sleep like you did last night. Wow back on track," Stella teases as she raises her glass to her lips and takes a sip. "Well almost everything."

"What am I missing?"

"Something we haven't talked about in a while."

Mac's body sags a bit further into the booth as he studies his wife's face in wonder. "What?"

"Our trip."

"Oh right."

"Unless you don't want to go?"

"Figured since you didn't bring it up you didn't want to go yet. Do you?"

"I do and I have picked a place."

"Where?"

"Oh I can't tell you."

"What? Why not?"

"It's a surprise."

"Stella," Mac huffs with a slight shake of his head.

"Trust me Mac, you'll love it."

"Will you be there?" He retorts to which she just rolls her eyes.

"No, it's going to be you and the TV."

"Gee thanks," Mac deadpans as he leans in closer and captures her hands in his. "Wherever you pick will be amazing."

"I hope so."

"I'll love it," he assures her as he tenderly brushes her lips with his. "Dessert time."

"Baklava?"

"Stella."

"You, Mr. Taylor have a one track mind."

"Yes, Mrs. Taylor, when it comes to you I do."

Mac pays for the bill and then both of them promptly leave the restaurant, anxious to get home and start their love making session. As soon as they reach the door to their apartment and its open and locked, the coats are quickly shed and lips locked.

"Bedroom," Stella manages as Mac's mouth continues to devour hers.

Mac lifts her into his arms, his dress shirt nearly off, her sweater on the floor and his member already stiff and begging for a sexual connection.

Mac gently deposits Stella's body onto the bed before he's quick to follow, easing himself down and allowing her fingers to finish removing his dress pants, her body arching upward as his lips hungrily nibble her neck.

"Ohh Mac..." Stella groans as his fingers finally latch onto a soft naked breast and give it a gentle squeeze, her body responding with a delightful moan as his reward.

"Need you Stella..."

"Make love to me Mac," she lovingly begs as she pulls his face back to his and silences him with another round of hungry kisses, pushing his tongue back into the folds of his mouth. Mac's hand rest at her sides as he slowly maneuvers himself for entry.

"Yes!" She gasps as he finally plunges into her, his own eyes closing with delight as soon as he makes penetration into her soft area.

"Stella..." Mac moans as he tries to pull upward, her body clinging to his and forcing the added resistance to drive his pleasure level even higher. "Gonna cum...faster," he pants once more as he pushes back down and tries to pull up, her pelvic area holding on once again.

"Feels soooo good..." she rewards him as his teeth gently nip at her soft lobe, her fingers clawing at his smooth back as they move together as one; always giving to the other but also taking what's needed in return.

"Stella..."

"Just a bit...more Mac," she pants as he pushes her naked body back into the soft covers once again, both of them now glistening with sweat and creating a greater amount of heat between them.

"I'm...now Stella..."

"Now Mac...cum to me," she gasps as she feels their climax just about reached.

"I love you!" Mac utters with one final breath, one final push before both are still and the bed stops shaking.

"I love you too Mac," Stella purrs as she tastes his salty lips once more. "So very much."

Mac looks down into her warm green eyes, her own reflection showing in his blue ones and offers a contented smile. "Never really knew what true love was until I met you," he admits softly as he kisses her forehead, her throat forming a small sentimental lump.

"Mac," she starts only to have him gently push his thumb against her flushed mouth.

"I have loved before, said the words, but up until recently I never really knew unconditional love. I know it's almost selfish to admit but it's true."

"No Mac, not selfish," her fingers stroke his cheek, "beautiful and heartfelt."

Mac smiles at her once more, kissing the tip of her nose and forcing a small giggle from her lips.

"Oh really?" He arches his brows as his fingers poke her warm naked sides.

"Mac!" Stella gently gasps as she tries to wrestle away from him.

He pokes her side once more, delighting in the sound of her musical laughter as it fills their bedroom with happy sounds, his mind and heart both content and at peace.

They finally pull apart, Mac spooning up beside Stella and just delighting in the feel of their naked bodies pressed together as one as they discuss a few non-confrontational topics.

It was finally time for sleep and Mac was so distracted and wound from the days events, his mind still trying to figure out where Stella was wanting them to go for their much needed holiday that by the time he closed his eyes, the iPod was forgotten and sleep was solid for the better part of the night.

A few hours before it was time to get up, Mac opens his eyes and stares at Stella's peaceful silhouette with a loving smile. They had come through so much together in the past few weeks, pushed each other to the breaking point, and him giving her more than one ample reason to just throw up her hands and just walk away.

But she didn't.

She had proved her love for him over and over again by always being at his side whenever needed, time alone when warranted, offering help whenever asked and love whenever afforded. She had helped him become a better man; so much so that with her unseen help he was able to walk into a room tonight and offer help to another survivor and sleep soundly a few hours later.

A survivor.

That's what he was now, not a victim, or a statistic, not a memory; but a survivor.

A survivor now on a mission, to help as many as he could in any way that he could to overcome the same doubts and fears he did and clean up the streets from scum like Wicks and Stubbs. And although he knows he'll never be able to offer the same amount of professional help that Dr. McAllister offered him, inside he tells himself there are other ways to help before its too late.

Life would be different for him now, for both of them. And much like Dr. Adams painful confession, Mac knows that he will have to face monsters like Maurice Wicks again; hopefully not in the same setting but even an arrest; but this time he'll be armed. Armed with knowledge and that was sometimes stronger than a physical shield.

Stella's eyes finally open, giving him a smile to greet the day. "Please tell me you weren't awake all night?"

"Actually slept pretty good last night," Mac answers in truth. "Didn't need the music either. Must have been my wife tiring me out again."

"Smart woman," Stella teases.

"I agree."

"Mmm then I'll just have to tire you out each night before we go to bed."

"Like the sound of that," Mac agrees in haste as he leans in and kisses her on the mouth; but then pulling back with a pout.

"What is it?" Stella inquires.

"I was thinking about this getaway you have planned."

"And?"

"Well it should have been me coming up with something to show you my appreciation for all you did."

"Don't worry, you are," she winks. "You're paying."

"Oh I see," Mac grins as he leans, pulls her into his grasp and then twists around so that she's on top of him looking down, her arms resting on his chest. Mac studies her face as his fingers tuck a curl behind her ear. "Have often wondered what I did to get you in my life."

"You were you Mac Taylor," Stella answers as kisses his rough cheek. "I could ask the same."

"God answered my prayers."

"Oh you are very sentimental this morning," she whispers as she leans in closer. "I guess we had the same prayer," she tells him just as she kisses him once more. "And only one of us needed the idea, but both are required to attend. You still want to go right?"

"Never a doubt," Mac tells her in truth. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?" Mac asks in surprise. "But we didn't..."

"Actually we...well _I _did."

"And Sinclair..."

"Agreed to a week."

"A week?" Mac arches his brows. "What are we going to do for a whole week away?"

"More of this," she purrs as she leans in once more, covering his mouth with hers and hungrily devouring his lips. "Course we could always just..."

"I like more of this," Mac replies in a husky tone as his strong arms wrap around her back and keep her body trapped against his chest.

Their heated make out session extends a few more minutes until both pull back a little out of breath, finally agreeing it was time to start their day.

They both get into their morning rituals, Mac heading for the bathroom for his shave and shower, Stella starting their modest breakfast before having her shower. And then when both travel coffee mugs were filled it was time to head out the door. On the way to the lab, Stella, once again tried to distract Mac from asking too many questions about their trip, telling herself she was going to leave early and pack his suitcase in anticipation of their trip tomorrow.

They reach the lab and are soon both whisked away into cases; Stella heading out to the field with Lindsay for a new DB and Mac following up with Sheldon about the assault case the night before.

"Got one of the guys and have a lead on the other," Sheldon informs him. "The evidence was fresh and it helped."

"I'm glad," Mac answers with a proud grin, happy that Dr. Adams had made the right decision and called him to come and help.

The Wicks files, both of them, were finally put to rest, signaling to Mac that that chapter was indeed closed and time for new one to start. Don was back on desk duty for a few more days until he was fully healed, he and Jessica also wanting to take some time off when Mac and Stella were back.

The team never learned about Mac's personal involvement with the Wicks case, only knowing that something he did while on an undercover operation helped put away a dirty guard and a crooked judge. Both he and Stella were thankful that the team didn't know about Mac's newfound knowledge, both of them agreeing not to let any details slip so that all mental dignity stayed in tact; Mac's the most of course. All they knew was Dr. Adams needed a helping hand and Mac was available and could handle the evidence.

"You still won't tell me where we are going?" Mac gently grumbles as they file into the cab that Stella instructs to take them to the airport.

"Not yet," she giggles at his mock pout. "You okay?"

"Haven't taken time off since...since I can't remember."

"Well then you are long overdue."

"And I couldn't even pack? How on earth do you know what I need?"

"Furry handcuffs and nothing else."

"Ste-lla," Mac groans as the cabbie looks up and then down quickly, his face flushing.

"He doesn't care Mac."

"I do," Mac insists.

"Trust me, you'll be fine. You packed the essentials right?"

"Yes but.."

"Relax, we are almost there."

"You know if the situation was in reverse you'd kill me right?"

"I'd just refuse to go," Stella states firmly, causing Mac to just shake his head. But seeing her husband in such mental distress she finally pulls the ticket and hands it to him.

"Open it."

"Hmm I think I actually want to be surprised."

"Smart ass," she gently growls as the cab comes to a halt outside the large bustling airport. They gather their bags and head inside, Mac following Stella toward the domestic counter.

"Not Greece?"

"Not enough time," she frowns. "It would have been that if Sinclair had given us more than a week."

"We can still do Greece."

"I hope so," she nods to the ticket in is pocket. They both take out their tickets and head for the check-in counter.

"First time to Fiji?" The agent asks, prompting Mac to look at Stella in surprise.

"First time for a few things...for both of us," she smiles at Mac before giving the agent their tickets. After their bags were checked and everything was in order, they slowly headed for the gate and then settled in for the short wait before the plane boarded.

"Disappointed?"

"Hardly," Mac replies in haste. "I wanted to go there with you."

"Then I'm happy," Stella whispers as she kisses his cheek. "Just wanted you to be someplace away from any kind of work reminders and just focus on us."

"Like the sound of that."

The call to board finally came through and both boarded, talking about what to expect and looking through some of the various travel brooches offered on the plane. Neither really wanted to watch whatever movie was offered, once again just delighting in being able to focus on them, their alone time together and their future. The plane finally touches down, both whisked outside into the humid tropical weather, smiles instantly appearing. It was a short ride to their resort and an even shorter stroll into their private beach front bungalow.

"Wow Stella," Mac whispers as he comes up behind her and wraps arms around her waist, nuzzling her ear with his lips. "I certainly never would have found this place."

"Am very glad you like it," Stella replies as she twists herself to face him, their lips meeting for the first of many kisses to come. "Thought we'd just relax, swim, have dinner in bed...or near it."

"Sounds perfect," Mac tells her as he tastes her mouth once more. "Hmm and what will we do with the rest of our time here in Fiji?"

"Put what's in your suitcase to good use," she smirks and his face warms.

"Do I get a say?"

"No," Stella smirks and his smile grows. "Besides, I doubt you'd complain.

"Not at all."

"But since you asked, is there anything specific you'd like to do?"

"Well there is something I'd like to work on."

"Pardon? Mac we are not. worki.." Stella starts only to have him press his mouth firmly to hers and then pull back and continue.

"A family."

"A what?" Stella asks in shock.

"Thought we could work on our next major goal."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. I want this for us. For all of us."

"All?"

"Your mother?"

"She's a given."

"Who else?"

"You know I don't have a father but there is someone who might like a grandchild or two..."

"Two?" Stella arches a brow as her smiles grows. "Ah it's also for Ben right?"

"Stella he's..." Mac starts only to have her silence him a firm kiss.

"I love you so much Mac, I can hardly express that to you. I want that also."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure."

Stella feels her eyes mist as she nods her head; their lips about to meet once more.

"I love you Mac Taylor."

"I love you Stella Taylor."

"Forever."

_And for the next few hours nothing else in the world would matter to them. And as they started to make love, a peaceful calm washed over them both. Embracing them in its endless arms. Wrapping them in serenity. And watching over them with a careful eye making sure they got the love they both needed and deserved. And tomorrow would come. The future was theirs to share together. But for now it would have to wait...because afterall..._

_~They would 'all' live happily ever after~_

**THE END!**

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**A/N: ending wasn't too sappy was it? Figured some major sap was in order after all the angst we put you through.**

**Well we have reached the end of this angsty journey and once again I thank you for sticking with it. I hope I didn't offend anyone with the content of this story as that wasn't my intent but thank you again in advance for the warm and encouraging reviews, they truly kept me going, even inspiring me to add a bit more at the end. So thank you again and please leave a final review before you go! (yes even you lurkers)**

**And I know that Dr. Adams is my medical OC and have never really expanded on his personal life but have always mentioned he never had kids and so hope this insight into 'why' was okay. Not sure if you all cared but thought I would explain in case some did and why it tied in to the ending! **

**More new SMACKED adventures on the way so stay tuned! **


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